100 Years of Solitude
by Isabelle
Summary: Series set 100 yrs after the Season five finale. This is part AU and futuristic. Spike has been alive for 100 hundred years after Buffy's death. Whistler comes to him to let him know that Buffy has been summoned to fight a new evil. Buffy/Spike
1. This Old Fool

This Old Fool (100 Years of Solitude)

This Old Fool (_100 Years of Solitude)_

-Disclaimers: Title belong entirely to Gabriel Garcia, just borrowing it for the sake of the story. Buffy, Spike, Whistler and all the memories belong to Joss and his crew, all other characters are entirely mine. Lyrics by Bon Jovi Wanted Dead or Alive.

-Summary: Series set 100 yrs after "the gift", Season five finale. This is part AU and futuristic. Spike has been alive for 100 hundred years after Buffy's death. Whistler comes to him to let him know that Buffy has been summoned to fight a knew evil, therefore she will be brought back to life and needs a "guide". When Buffy wakes she finds that the only one to cling to is the only person that has survived since the time she was alive. This is a B/S fiction.

-Rating: Overall rating of series is R, but at times it will be NC-17.

-Spoilers: Up to Season 5

-Distribution: The only people that have permission to post these series are those who already store my fic and have asked me for permission, if you want to post it please ask me I'll be happy to let you, I just want to know where my fic goes.

-Special Thanks: Trish for BETA reading this and her awesome feedback, Karla for listening to me rant, and One Good Day group may you be blessed with many chocolate covered naked Spikes! Thanks for all the reviews!

--

"One Woman has hurt you, you take your revenge on the rest of the world. You're a coward and a weakling."

from Casablanca

--

_It's all the same, only the names have changed,  
Every day it seems we're wasting away,  
Another place, where the faces I saw cold,  
I'd drive all night, Just to get back home._

(Location: Guadalajara, Spain. Year: 2103)

The bar went suddenly quiet when he walked in. All eyes adverted his gaze, looking at the dirt on the floor, looking at their half empty drinks, looking at the splintery walls, inspecting their dirty fingers, holding their breath.

The soft menacing sound of his thumping boots hollowed on the weak wooden floor. He walked slowly, slippery, and predatorily, stopping once he reached the center of the room.

Silence was all that was heard in the dark, smoke filled room.

He slowly reached into his coat pocket and fetched out an illegal cigarette. He cocked his head sideways slipping the brown boat between his slightly parted lips, with his other hand he brought his trusted silver lighter to his face and slowly, ever so gracefully lighted the fag.

The smoke surrounded him as he brought back down his silvery friend, placing it securely inside his pocket along with his illegal cigarettes.

He took a moment to inhale the smoke, giving him a reassurance of who he was and what he was there to do.

All eyes tried not to cower under the intimidating silence but he was merciful on them and spoke.

"Lookin' for Jose Buendia." he said in a normal yet informal tone.

No answer.

"And I'm guessin', who of you shits is gonna tell me, you don't know who I'm talkin' 'bout," he said taking another puff at his cigarette, exhaling slowly waiting for the right moment.

The sound of his energetic British tone surrounded the bar.

The bartender moved quietly around the bar and tentatively walked to the man in black.

"Umm...Senor? We ain't seen him 'round these part, these days. You might want to check Talia." he said looking at the blonde with fear.

"Been there, done that, here now." He said not even looking at the brown demon who cowered before him.

"But Senor, we ain't seen 'im." The demon said looking down for a moment and that was his mistake, without warning he was grabbed by the throat and lifted three feet in the air, pale hand grasping his throat.

"You ganna tell me, you ain't hidin' him?" the growl in his throat said.

The room instantly paralyzed and watching in horror as the intruder picked up the Saycer demon right off the ground and looked at it with a stony face.

"No.." was all that the demon could push pass his throat. The man squeezed harder. He knew this breed needed to breathe.

"Then you're tellin' me were he's at?" he asked and half stated.

"Back,...in the back." the man managed to spit out.

Without thinking twice his neck was snapped easily and the body lumped to the floor. A few gasps were head in the room but no one dared challenge him.

The man looked at the dead creature by his feet and brought his cigarette to his mouth, exhaling softly, "Thanks." he said.

His gaze turned tot he rest of the room, no one looked at him, nor at the body on the floor. Everyone knew to mind their own business.

_I'm a cowboy, on a steel horse I ride,  
I'm wanted, dead or alive,  
Wanted, dead or alive._

The next noise that was heard was the thumping boots walking slowly and deadly to the back of the bar. He paused before the door and reached inside his black duster, pulling out his modified 10-gauge black muzzle.

A few gasps were heard through the room at the sight of the very deadly and very rare Rubio. Rubio was his signature weapon, it was full of one hundred years of tales, that were whispered between creatures but never dared to go beyond that.

Without knocking or waiting for a sign two loud gunshots were heard throughout the room and the sight before them was a wooden door with two 5 by 5 holes and a deadly silence.

The killer reached out and opened the rickety door, revealing a slumped bloodied man gasping for his final breath.

"Hombre, so nice of you to come to my funeral." He whispered.

"Wouldn't have missed it for the world." he said dryly.

The dying man managed a sour laugh. "I would have paid him back, you know." he whispered.

The black-clad figure knelt before the man until his face was almost touching his and looked at him straight in the eye. "Not my problem." he said icily.

The man smiled. "She would have been really proud." the man spit out venomously.

A shadow of pain went through the killer's gaze and without flinching he reached out and snapped his neck.

He stood slowly and regarded the dead body. Real proud.

Without thinking he walked out of the small room to face the waiting bar. He paused and looked at them, waiting to see if someone challenged him.

_Not bloody likely, but then again_... He thought.

_Sometimes I sleep, sometimes it's not for days,  
And people I meet always go their separate ways.  
Sometimes you tell the day, by the bottle that you drink.  
And sometimes when you're alone, all you do is think._

"Who do you think you are?" a large demon walked to the middle of the wooden floor, his large arms protruding from his own body.

The visitor counted to three, and turned to look at the foolish demon, giving him his signature look.

The demon froze as the gaze covered him. The gaze was filled with challenging hate.

"Spike." he simply replied and walked out of the bar, leaving behind his shallow menacing foot steps, two dead bodies with plenty of witnesses, and the scent of his illegal cigarettes.

_I'm a cowboy, on a steel horse I ride,  
I'm wanted, dead or alive,  
Wanted, dead or alive._

--

He walked silently to his home, walking past death infected alleys, and muddy blood-mixed waters. His boots shook the earth slightly, but not for his weight, but the power he possessed over the streets of Guadalajara.

This was his town, his country, his territory. Actually wherever he went was his territory, the earth was his playground. But what the hell was it all good for, a good fuck and quality booze, placing terror in the hearts of human and demons alike? No, no matter how many reason he came up the same stood. It was his duty, it was his calling, it was not his time yet. He was paying for all he did, all the faces of death he had to look at in the past. All those who withered away and left him, all alone, seeking shelter in the arms of whores he cared nothing for, seeking illusions in vague dreams and memories one hundred years old.

He felt old, used and tired. He wondered if this is how all those he loved felt. Knowing precisely when it was their time to go, their time to leave this darkened earth.

His face was stony cold and hard, emotions only came behind the curtains of his bed, where the current flame would be waiting.

He needed a good fuck today, a hard, back against the wall pounding of human flesh. Humans, that's all he would have. There had only been a couple that he actually cared more than the fuck, but those, like all the others before him had not loved him the way he thought he loved them.

He was nearing his place, walking was something he did when he felt like thinking. Yet thinking was the last thing he wanted to do.

As they saw him approach they opened the gates and let him, he slowly walked down the long walkway, pausing in front of the door that was opened within moments, revealing an elderly man with hair as black as onyx and eyes as blue as night.

"Buenas Noches, Senor." (Good evening, Sir.) He said with a slight bow.

"Noches, Efrain." (Evening, Efrain.) The blonde murmured.

He walked in and handed the man his duster, then taking his trusted Rubio he weighted it and gave it over to the man.

"Nessesita ser limpiada" (Needs to be cleaned.) He said.

"Claro, senor," (Of course, Sir.) Efrain replied taking the infamous piece from the pale hands.

"Estare en mi cuarto," (I'll be in my room.) the blonde told him once he was left in his black leather pants and the tight knit navy-blue sweater.

"Si senor, su bano lo esta esperando," (Yes, sir. Your bath is waiting for you.) Efrain said as he moved out of his master's way and scurried off to the kitchen.

"Gracias. La senorita Opal?" (Thank you. Where is Miss.Opal?) Spike asked rubbing his sore neck and addressing the waiting maid at the edge of the stairs.

"No ha llegado, senor," (She has not arrived, sir.) the dark woman answered him.

Spike nodded and went to his room.

He entered the master bedroom and was satisfied that it had been cleaned and his rumpled bed re-done. He liked this house better than his other houses, that's why he spent his vacation here.

It was quiet and serene. The giant balcony/window opened up and in the morning he would relish in the rays of the sun. The short rays that only lasted 5 hours he liked to cherish them most of all. Opal didn't understand what his fascination with the sun was, but he told her once that after one hundred and eighty years of living in the night, you learn to appreciate the daylight.

She didn't understand, then again there were many things that Opal didn't understand. Then why was he with her? A good fuck.

_I'm a cowboy, on a steel horse I ride,  
I'm wanted, dead or alive,  
Wanted, dead or alive._

He slowly removed his shirt and threw it on top of the linen draped laughing coach that anxiously waited nightly for his clothes to be shed.

His pants came next, leaving him bare and naked to the world. As he walked to the bathroom his muscles rippled with tension giving his slim muscular body an aroma of grace and perfection. Always ready for a fight, always ready to attack.

He walked to the open bathroom door were there lay his sunken tub filled to capacity with steaming hot water and vanilla scented bath oil.

He had forgotten why it was that he liked the scent, but it was a necessity that all his products have a vanilla scent to them, and his servants adequately provided him with all his needs.

Slowly and unconsciously he slipped inside the tub of relaxation, hissing as the heat pierced into his body. The water reached him neck height and he closed his eyes leaning his head on the bath pillow placed by the bath header.

He exhaled unneeded air and cleared his thoughts. No longer did he question whether he was a pansy or not, he simply enjoyed it and there was no one to question his motives so he continued to take pleasures in such simple tasks in life.

--

Efrain walked to the door as the soft elegant ringing ended. It was late at night and he was sure the Senor would not like visitors at this time. It couldn't be Miss. Larganza, she had a key and wouldn't like to disturb people at night.

He opened the thick oak door slightly to approve of the visitor before he let them in or asked them in for that matter. Then sighed when he saw who it was.

"Entre, Senor Whistler," (Come in, Whistler.) Efrain said as he opened the door.

"Gracias, Efrain," (Thank you, Efrain.) he answered in bad Spanish.

"El Senor Guillermo se esta banando," (Mr. William is taking a bath.) Efrain said as he took Whistler's coat and hat.

Whistler looked at him puzzled at his lack of Spanish. The butler frowned. "He's taking a bath." The man said in broken English. Whistler smiled and walked up the stairs.

"I'll be up here, kid." He called over his shoulder to Efrain.

The dark man looked at the retreating demon and shook his head in annoyance. Imbesil! Imbecile! He thought.

"I heard that!" Whistler shouted from the second floor. Efrain glared at the empty stairs.

--

_I walk these streets, a loaded six string on my back,  
I play for keeps, 'cause I might not make it back.  
I been everywhere, still I'm standing tall,  
I've seen a million faces, and I've rocked them all._

Spike sunk into the water even more as he let the fumes drain the tension off his pale body. It had been a hell of a week, two demons, three human outlaws, and seven vampires. In the old days his Slayer would have taken twice that much in a week.

He hissed as he caught himself thinking of the petite blonde. It had been a long time since he had thought of her, almost two months? Maybe less, who knew, time meant nothing to him. He lived forever.

His girl had died one hundred and two years ago and he still felt the pang of her absence. He had traveled the world and not found another like her.

Damn. He thought as his memories took off without him.

"You brood more than your sire."

Spike jumped up and instinctively reached for his intruder. His hand swiftly went to the hidden knife on the porcelain wall and he aimed it straight at the man's throat.

He looked up to see who would die by his hand tonight and he frowned when he saw who it was.

"Bloody hell!! I could have killed you!" Spike shouted at the demon.

"I've been dead once already, it's very liberating." The shorter man replied and then looked down at the nude body of the vampire. "Been working out, I see."

Spike glared at him and stepped over the tub, going back to his relaxing bath, now he really needed to unwind. "What brings you 'ere?"

Whistler took a seat in the nearby toilet seat. "Well this certainly was not in the job description, you know, sitting on top of a way too expensive toilet seat watching a naked vampire take a bubble bath."

Spike opened one eye and glared at him. "If you came to complain about the price of my ceramics come back when I care."

"Bad week, huh?" Whistler asked crossing his legs.

"Seen better." Spike replied with his eyes still closed. "But cut the chit-chat, mate. Why you 'ere?"

Whistler took a deep breath and studied his feet momentarily.

"Tatiana is dead." he stated.

Spike's face hardened. He should have been expecting it.

"When?"

"Last night. Was taken out by the vampire gang." Whistler said rubbing his hands together.

Spike nodded. "But that's not all you came to tell me."

Whistler eyed the wet vampire. "I swear you should have been born a psychic."

"Compliments? Where did that come from?" Spike said sarcastically.

"Good day, I guess."

"Well pardon me but I don't find the death of a slayer very amusing." Spike retorted angrily raising from the tub and walking unashamedly to grab his black silk robe.

"Satan must be turning in his grave."

"Well let him toss and turn while you tell me what the other news is." Spike answered slipping the expensive cloth over him and wrapping it tightly around his slim muscular body.

He waited for the demon to continue, when he didn't he walked out of the large black tiled bathroom. Whistler followed him and gained enough courage to tell him. "They're bringing Buffy back."

--

_I'm a cowboy, on a steel horse I ride,  
I'm wanted, dead or alive, _

Spike felt as if holy water had been slowly poured down his back and he was currently being knifed by thousands of memories rushing into his head, too fast to dodge, to fast to put away, too hurtful to remember.

He spun around and stalked back to the demon ready to rip his head off for making him feel this way. He had not felt this way in over ten years and he'd be damned if he let him get away with it.

"Now Spike listen, kid, I am serious, not saying to this to pull your leg or anything, for real." Whistler stammered as he saw the angry vampire approach him with a killer look in his eyes.

"I am serious!" He pleaded.

"So am I!" Spike roared as he grabbed the demon by the throat and pinned him to his wall, lifting him three feet off the ground.

"We need her!" Demon shocked out.

"You will NOT disturb her! She paid your bloody price with her life and you will NOT bring her to this hell again." Spike hissed at him.

The demon looked at him squarely in the eyes until Spike eased off his throat.

"It's not for you to decide, kid, or for me. Believe me if it were for me I'd let the poor girl rest. But it's beyond your control, even beyond mine."

"Whatever the trouble is I can handle it, I've done it before, I'll do it again." Spike said trying to control his outrage at the concept of digging Buffy up.

"One dies another one is called. She's being chosen again." Whistler whispered in his mad man tone.

Spike's jaw tightened. He had wanted this for years. This had been his ambition for almost twenty years after she had died. Him and Dawn had looked for days and days, hours and hours.

By the end everyone had moved on except for him. Only he was no longer sure he could ever bring her back. He would have given his life so she could have watched her friends grow old like he had. He had been her unworthy eyes. He had been her unworthy comfort to them.

All changed and he remained the same.

At times he had forgotten the smile of her face, the smell of her hair, the sound of her voice.

But all it took was one look at Dawn and it was all restored. Now he was given what he wanted back then and it sickened him at the thought.

It was too late. This was not her time. All had died. He was the only one left. No Dawn, no Angel, no Giles, no Willow, only him.

"It would kill her if you did this to her." He almost whispered.

"One must never question the deities." Whistler warned.

"I bloody well will!!" Spike shouted to the ceiling.

"Listen, kid. I am only the messenger. Take the message, meet at SanSebastian's and the next thing you know you'll have your blonde girl in no time." Whistler said fixing his messed coat.

Spike noticed and bowed his head. "Sorry, mate...lost a bit of the temper."

Whistler studied him. "And people wonder why you were chosen." He stated sarcastically.

Spike ran his fingers through his now neck long hair that was tied at the nape of his neck with a tight black rubber band.

"Listen, get some rest, or better yet have a good fuck with ladylove, forget all your troubles." he paused. "You won't have to be with her for long, just the usual. Fill her in, set her on her feet, and send her packing."

Spike gave him an un-humorous laugh. "It's not that simple."

"I know you still care for the kid, I even cared. But this is business."

Spike smiled at him. "With Buffy, it's always business."

"Good, you'll understand each other." Whistler said, then look at him sternly. "You know the rules, kid. I don't think that after sixty years I have to give you the Adam and Eve speech."

"I know; 'Thou shall not eat of the fruit of the tree of life'." Spike said turning and looking at the window.

Whistler watched him, a dark shadow covered his form. "You still love her, don't you."

Silence.

"I long time ago I thought I did."

"What changed your mind?"

Silence.

"I've forgotten how to love."

_I'm a cowboy, I got the night on my side,  
I'm wanted, dead or alive,  
Wanted, dead or alive. _


	2. The Arrival

This Old Fool (100 Years of Solitude)

The Arrival (100 Years of Solitude)

-Disclaimers: Title belong entirely to Gabriel Garcia, just borrowing it for the sake of the story. Buffy, Spike, Whistler and all the memories belong to Joss and his crew, all other characters are entirely mine. Lyrics It's all Coming Back to me Now by Celine Dion.

--

_"If certain, when this life was out,  
That yours and mine should be,  
I'd toss it yonder like a rind,  
And taste eternity."_

--

_There were nights when the wind was so cold  
That my body froze in bed  
If I just listened to it  
Right outside the window_

Spike did not recall how long he stood by the window watching the rare rain fall, making small puddles of mud on his garden below. He frowned, the floors would get dirty.

Then again here he was thinking of his new Persian carpets when his mind was trying to avoid the complications of his life. He thought he had gotten used to his life, gotten over SunnydaleSpike. Grown up, seen the world some more, been able to care for other women, going through a day without thinking of those he loved and died so long ago.

The only reason that he kept going was because of his own selfish desire to live, that and his responsibility. If it were not for him, what would happen to the young girls that got the surprise of their lives when he stopped by their house to let them know 'they were the lucky contestants' of a once in a generation gig.

He frowned. Why the complexities, why the complication? He thought he had gained the positive favor of the PTB, but no! Here they had to go and throw a curve ball at him and he let it hit him right on the balls.

_Bloody Pillocks!_

He was so into his thoughts that he did not hear her slip quietly into his bedroom and stalk up to him.

He jumped when she circled her arms around his waist and kissed his neck seductively.

"Jumpy tonight, aren't you?" she whispered to his ear.

"Didn't hear you come in, luv." He replied as he turned around and grabbed her. Without warning he plummeted her mouth mercilessly and without a second thought.

She responded with the same ferocity meeting his every desire.

This is what he wanted, a good fuck. And if there was someone willing to give him that, with no strings attached, it was Opal.

She smelled like wildwood and citrus. Fresh, yet dark and inviting.

He trailed harsh kisses down her neck but she stopped him and gave him a seductive smile. "Got a convention tomorrow, can't go in looking like a leopard."

He smiled but disappointed inside. The neck was _his_ area. But as long as she made him happy it was all good to him. He grabbed her roughly and tossed her on his bed, ripping her short skirt with a single blow.

She groaned. "This was a rare vintage Dolce and Gabbana!" she said sitting up.

"I'll buy you a new and improved Dolce and Gabbana!" he groaned as she broke the mood.

"That's not the point, Spike!" she cried. "What is wrong with you?"

He sighed and groaned as his member throbbed with need.

"Can we just forget the bloody skirt?!"

She glared at him and stood up walking to the bathroom.

He contemplated going after her,...his lower brain won sending him begging like a puppy.

"Pet, listen am sorry." he said half apologetic and half in protest.

She was brushing her long chocolate curls, she looked straight at the mirror. Her almond brown eyes threw daggers at him through the reflection where he didn't exist.

He sighed, she was impossible at times!

"Fine, have it your way, you know where the door's at," he walked away.

Opal paused and it took her less than a second to go after him. Without warning she walked up to him and swiftly untied his robe letting it slip to the floor.

He stood there before her in all his naked glory. Without looking at him or any time to play she bent down on both knees and bit him hard on the inside of his right thigh.

He groaned in pleasure, reaching out he held on to one of the posts of his four-post king size bed and braced himself for her amazing blow job.

Slowly she slipped her expert hand to his hardening balls, rolling them lightly between her fingers stopping to press softly on his pressure points.

Her mouth descended to his cock and lightly licked the pre-cum from the tip of his hardened shaft, slowly and deliberately she took him in. Inch by inch she licked and bit and scrapped until he was howling with pleasure as her hot mouth caressed and assaulted him.

Once he came she waited until he stopped shaking and went behind him, still on her knees. She reached out and seductively kissed his lower back, sending chills down his spine. She grabbed his perfect ass with her red painted fingernails and squeezed the hard muscle until he was aching in need. With her tongue she traced the crack between the mounds sending him shaking in need.

His own hand went down and grabbed his penis, massaging it back and forth as the tension filled his body. Then he felt her finger trust into his anal hole and he cried out in satisfaction. She pulled out her criminal finger as he slumped on to the bed exhausted and spent.

She peered at him placing her hands at her hips.

"God baby, that was...wonderful." He moaned as he tried to regain his strength.

She stared at him hard. "You needed it." she said coldly.

He lifted his gaze to stare at the half naked woman before him, with a questioning look in his eyes.

"In case you forgot my name is Opal, not Buffy." she said and picked up her skirt that was ripped and soiled and swiftly walked out of the room.

He threw himself back on the covers and blocked his eyes with his forearm. "Bloody hell." he moaned.

_There were days when the sun was so cruel  
That all the tears turned to dust  
And I just knew my eyes were  
Drying up forever_

--

_He did not know why he was walking but he kept on walking through the dark cave. At times he thought he saw a light ahead, at others he thought he heard voices calling to him._

_But eventually through the cave that smelled of rotting flesh he reached the entrance to the underground chamber. From above he could see her there, lying on top of a sacrificial throne. Dead she still looked beautiful. All pale and yet golden, dead yet still alive._

_She was completely naked, but her hair had grown down to her buttocks and it was carefully arranged so that it covered her chest and groin. _

_At times he was disappointed at times he was glad. This was no time to ogle at her perfect body, it was time to save her, even dead she needed saving, and who did they turn to? Spike._

_He saw as the priests walked in a line, covered with dark maroon hoods that hid their identities, there were four of them._

_They chanted in ancient Latin, a language he knew yet couldn't understand at the moment._

_The first priest stood in front of the body and took out a scalpel, it glistened in the gloomy cave but he knew exactly what it was. _

_He saw as the fine clean metal went for the girl's heart and stabbed her neatly and carefully, slicing an opening that revealed a dead heart._

_The priest stepped back and looked at his art work, he turned and looked at Spike and shed his hood._

_It was Angel, he smiled at the younger vampire and said. "I took her heart."_

_The second priest stepped up and took out his own scalpel, bringing it down her groin, he stabbed her and stood back in  
admiration of his work._

_He turned and looked at Spike, shedding his hood it revealed Parker. He gave Spike a cocky grin and said "I took her virtue."_

_The third priest stepped up to the now partly mutilated body and brought out his own scalpel, slicing carefully her skull. He stood back and examined his work then turned to look at Spike. He shed his hood to reveal Riley who smiled at the blonde. "I took her normality."_

_The fourth priest stood in front of the body and brought out his own scalpel, bringing it down, he stopped and saw the marking and mutilations the others had done, without touching her he turned and looked at Spike. Revealing his form Spike found himself staring at himself. _

_The hood-clad Spike shed a tear and looked back the girl. "I failed to protect her."_

_The slayer immediately opened her eyes and sat up rapidly. She screamed, a blood chilling scream that left Spike clutching at his ears. When she stopped he looked up at Spike who was looking down below._

_"Help me!" she screamed. Spike instinctively moved to help her but his body did not move, he tried to curse but his tongue could speak no words. All he could do was watch as Angel, Parker, and Riley kept stabbing the screaming girl and the other Spike could not stop them._

_"Help me, Spike! Help me!!"_

A scream.

Spike sat up in his bed, screaming.

"It was a dream, it was a dream, it was a dream." He consoled himself as he untangled himself from his silk sheets and jumped out of his black bed.

He ran his hands through his face as he shook the shivers out of himself.

He had not had that dream in years, almost fifteen years, that dream had stopped visiting him. He now remembered why he hated  
it so much.

Bloody hell. He thought as he walked to his bathroom and splashed water on his face.

The water helped. He had stopped breathing involuntarily.

He looked at the mirror that ignored his presence. "Control, mate, got to keep it cool."

_I finished crying in the instant that you left  
And I can't remember where  
or when or how  
And I banished every memory  
you and I had ever made _

--

He looked at the gold clock on the night table. 5:45 AM, it would be daylight soon.

_Might as well get up._ He thought. He had not been able to close his eyes since the nightmare. Tossing and turning was not his idea of a good night sleep.

As he stood he grabbed the disposed silk robe from the floor where Opal had let it drop the night before. _Damn, Opal...I'll deal with her later._

He reached out to the phone next to the clock on his night stand and it connected automatically to Jermina's line.

"Buenos dias, senor Guillermo," (Good morning, Mr. William.) the kind elderly lady said in the other line.

"Buen dia, Jermina. Porfavor disle a Efrain que venga a mi cuarto," (Mornin', Jermina. Please tell Efrain to come to my room.)

"Claro que si, senor." (Of course, sir.) She paused. "Le traigo el desayuno?" (Shall I bring breakfast up?)

"Solo mi café." (Only my coffee.) He responded.

"No quire huevos, ni jamon con tostadas?" (No eggs, or ham with toast?) She asked baffled.

Spike chuckled, this woman would not give up, always trying to feed him, saying he was unhealthily skinny. "No, gracias Jermina, buen dia." (No thank you, Jermina, have a good day.)

_But when you touch me like this  
And you hold me like that  
I just have to admit  
That it's all coming back to me _

He hung up the line and went to run his water. By the time the shower was running Efrain was knocking at his door. Spike went to answer it letting the water run warm first.

The short Spanish man smiled at his master. "Buen dia." (Good morning)

Spike nodded at his greetings.

"Something needs to be done today before 8 pm." Spike said walking to his walk in closet and started selecting various pieces of clothing.

Efrain instinctively took out a handy mini-notebook and an attached pen, ready to take notes.

"We are going to have a visitor for a few days. A young lady, about twenty."

Efrain nodded knowing various things that had to be done first off.

"She'll need a complete wardrobe, down to shampoo and thongs. Spare no expense for this one, I want her to receive the very best."

Efrain raised his eyebrows but did not question.

"She'll also need a room, prepare the East wing. Make it red,...her bed sheets...silk red to be exact." He paused examining a pair of camel leather pants. "And lots of leather for her wardrobe. We will be leaving for Bogota the day after tomorrow. Make all the necessary arrangements with Diego. Please make her as comfortable as possible, she will be more disoriented than the rest. Oh, and...she doesn't know Spanish. Make sure Jermina knows that. She'll need to be feed, the chit's too skinny, Jermina will like that."

Efrain kept writing as his Senor went on.

"Oh...another thing." Spike paused and walked over to his servant. "She's just lost everyone she loved in this world. Mom, dad, kid sister, all her friends, and all her lovers...so please...make it as comfortable for her. If she doesn't want something don't shove it down her throat. If she wants to cry in her room that's fine as long as her ass is in that plane when Diego is ready."

Efrain nodded. "Senor?" (Sir?)

"Si?" (Yes?)

"Otra matadora." (Another Slayer?) the man asked curious.

"No...**la** matadora." (No...**the** Slayer.)

_When I touch you like this  
And I hold you like that  
It's so hard to believe but  
It's all coming back to me _

--

Eight O'clock came quickly and Spike jogged down his marble stair case to the garage door.

Efrain met him at the end of the steps. "Su carro esta listo, Senor Guillermo." (Your car is ready, Mr. William.)

"Gracias, Efrain. No llegare hasta las dos o tres de la manana. Esta todo listo para la Senorita?" (Thank you, Efrain. I won't be back until two or three in the monring. Is everything ready for the lady?) Spike asked fixing his custom design Rolex on his wrist.

"Claro, todo esta listo." (Or course, all is ready.) The man answered then handed over to Spike a black duffle bag and Rubio.

Spike nodded in thanks and walked out in to the night.

His entire trip to SanSebastian he was nearly shivering in anticipation. What was he going to tell her? "ehhh..'ello, Slayer never thought I'd see the likes of you again." or "Hello, Buffy. How 'r you feelin' after one hundred years of sleepin' like a baby.?"

He shook his thoughts.

_There were moments of gold  
And there were flashes of light  
There were things I'd never do again  
But then they'd always seemed right  
There were nights of endless pleasure  
It was more than any laws allow _

He screeched his tires and landed parallel parked in front of the old Museum.

Stepping out of his car he saw the demon move out of the shadows.

"You're late Blondie."

"Yeah, well I had nothin' to wear." Spike retorted as he brought out _Rubio_ and the duffle bag.

"Nice set of wheels you have there." Whistler said pointing to the black Vlaken convertible. "Used to be called Auston Martin in my time."

"Yeah, a few special modification for my 'special' line of work here and there, but she's hell on wheels."

"Gonna have to let me take her out for a spin one of these days." Whistler said looking over the sports car.

Spike snorted. "I'd rather you shag my woman."

"But you don't have one as of now. Gotta hand it to you, nothing like dumping trash while screaming another woman's name."  
Spike growled.

"Down boy."

"Are we going to play patty-a-cake here all day?" Spike asked throwing the duffle bag at Whistler.

"What's this?"

Spiked walked to the front doors of the abandoned museum and flicked his hand revealing a 1 x1 remote control. The Vlaken answered him by doing a Batmobile move and completely sealing the car from intruders.

"Size four."

--

_"A very small degree of hope is sufficient to cause the birth of love."_

_Stendhal_

--

_If I kiss you like this  
And you whisper like that  
It was lost long ago  
But it's all coming back to me  
If you want me like this  
And if you need me like that  
It was dead long ago  
But it's all coming back to me _

He stared at the marble floors where the demon had placed the herbs, incense, and Wiccan objects to perform the chant. It would not be magic since the powers were the ones condoning it. It was more like an acceptance, a welcome of her body and soul.

The room was gloomy, not too bright, not too dark, just enough so a one hundred yr-old soul would not be frightened by her surroundings.

That was one of his responsibilities, once she opened her eyes he was to be the first she was to look at. A familiar face.

He hated his small job.

He hated this entire situation.

He hated the now chanting demon.

He hated the sick powers-that-be.

He was a royally pissed off vampire at the moment.

He watched in awe as the room began to shift temperatures. There was a time when he wouldn't noticed but after two hundred years his senses were at point blank.

Bright green light appeared before him and started taking shape as the demon continued to chant. He could hear voices and he remembered that Whistler told him those would be her soul and its memories returning to this world.

He heard Joyce, and Nibblet, and the Whelp, and Red, and the Watcher, and one he recognized as her father, then Angel and some Riley, bits of Tara and Anya and himself.

His features hardened. Those were voices that he had not heard in a long time, voices from the past, voices that hurt him even more than he was willing to admit.

Voices from past decades of gloomy and sorrow-filled days. A part of him, he thought, he had willingly lost and was now being placed on his face once more.

He remembered emotions he had felt and words he had spoken, promises he made and kept, people that slowly slipped effortlessly from his hands.

_There were those empty threats  
And hollow lies  
And whenever you tried to hurt me  
I just hurt you even worse  
And so much deeper_

Time was of the essence.

This time was essence embodied.

Before his eyes her figure was made, limb by limb, cell by cell, hair by hair.

It was a witness at creation that amazed him. The feeling of life in the room was choking. It circulated him and enveloped all his senses. Then he felt it...she was there.

That long gone feeling that twitched at his neck whenever she was around sent convulsive shivers down his neck and through his spine.

She was there.

_There were hours that just  
Went on for days  
When alone at last  
We'd count up all the chances  
That were lost forever_

The sweet sound of a heart beat, the sweet smell of her skin, the sweet feel of her skin. It was all her. She was back.

He stared in awe at the perfectly shaped nude body of his formal enemy and love and gaped in wonder.

After on hundred year of solitude and confinement, of not allowing himself to think of her and what she looked like, after thirty seven thousand, two hundred and thirty days he finally saw her. Flesh and bone, skin and breast. She was there.

He blinked twice as he stared at her perfection in complete fascination and jubilation, this was his day, His One. Good. Day.

She was not only there, because she had always been there as long as her scoobies and lil' bit was around. But she was here, with him.

He peered over her face when the bright light stopped shining and looked at her skeptically.

_But you were history with the  
Slamming of the door  
And I made myself so strong  
Again somehow  
And I never wasted any of my time  
On you since then_

"Slayer?" he whispered.

Nothing happened, he waited. But patience was not his big quality.

"Buffy?"

Then it happened. She opened her eyes. She looked at him.

_But if I touch you like this  
And if you kiss me like that  
It was so long ago  
But it's all coming back to me_

He almost fell back. Those bright green eyes that had not looked at him in over one hundred years were suddenly staring at him,  
with life and character behind them.

She blinked trying to focus.

"Spike?"

_If you forgive me all this  
And I forgive you all that  
We forgive and forget  
And it's all coming back to me  
When you see me like this  
And when I see you like that  
We see just what we want to see  
All coming back to me  
I can barely recall  
But it's all coming back to me now_


	3. A Woman Unconscious

This Old Fool (100 Years of Solitude)

A Woman Unconscious (100 Years of Solitude)

-Disclaimers: Title belong entirely to Gabriel Garcia, just borrowing it for the sake of the story. Buffy, Spike, Whistler and all the memories belong to Joss and his crew, all other characters are entirely mine. Lyrics by BBMak Ghost of You and Me.

--

"Within you I lose myself

Without you I find myself

Wanting to be lost again"

Author Unknown

--

Spike stumbled back three feet and landed on his ass on the hard marble floor. His eyes were wide with fright and he kept backing up until his back hit the wall.

He was panting even though his lungs had not worked for over two hundred years.

He stared at her.

She was real.

She was alive.

He looked at her but the thoughts did not register with his brain, so he just sat there panting with eyes wide open

--

_What am I supposed to do  
With all these blues?  
Haunting me everywhere  
No matter what I do_

The first thing she felt was someone calling her. Beckoning her to come forward and "jump." So she did, she jumped. She did not remember what she was doing, with whom she was with, she just remembered opening her eyes and looking deep into eyes as blue as the sea after a storm.

Those eyes, that reminded her of a time so far away, so long gone, so sad.

The eyes screamed hurt, shyness, and life.

They called her, and she answered.

She blinked and she pulled the memory from times so long ago.

"Spike?"

His once tranquil and scared eyes went into a state of shock as he fell to the ground and stumbled back against the wall. She sat up and watched him retreat.

He was scared of her.

But why?

Last she remembered they were starting out as friends. He was kind of her partner. But those eyes that looked at her now where not of the man in love that she remembered, they belonged to someone else. Someone evolved, someone who grew up and left her behind.

She felt young and vulnerable under his gaze. Almost as if he could see right through her clothes.

When she looked down she had no clothes!

Her hands instantly went to cover her nude form, she looked frantically around the room and tried to stand up but her legs...she couldn't feel her legs!!

She screamed.

--

He watched as she went from recognition to confusion, to complete bewilderment as she found her body naked, and to utter horror when her legs did not obey her.

She screamed.

He watched her, she looked so helpless, not the strong Slayer he remembered, not the wild untamed animal that walked with grace and beauty. She was now a child, new and freshly born.

She needed care not backup.

He was completely thrown, this was way more than what he had bargained for.

Her eyes searched his face for any signs of help. But he couldn't move, he couldn't talk, just stared at the vision before him.

"My Legs, I can't feel my legs." She whispered but he could hear her. Her wild eyes looked at him once more. "Why can't I feel my legs?"

Spike couldn't answer.

Whistler came up behind the shaken girl and wrapped a thick blanket around her nude body.

She looked at the demon surprised.

"Whistler?" she asked him.

"Hi'ya doing, kid?" He asked crouching down in front of her.

"I can't feel my legs." She repeated.

"Yeah, I'll take a while for you to regain all your motor skills." He answered.

"What's wrong with Spike? Why wont he answer me?" she asked. "Where's Dawn?"

Whistler looked back at the shaken Spike and shook his head. "You'll have to excuse him, he never prepares himself for this things."

Buffy nodded uncaringly.

"Where's Dawn?" Buffy asked worriedly.

Whistler sighed. "Kid, why don't you and me have chat."

_Watching the candle flicker out  
In the evening glow  
I can't let go  
When will the night be over_

--

He was on his twentieth cigarette. The last time he had chain smoked this much was after she had told him to get out of here life, and that had been one hundred fucking years ago.

_Damn Her!_ He thought.

He passed the room back and forth, she would occasionally look at him in wonder at his attitude and appearance.

For the past hour Whistler had filled her in on what happened to her, how she had died, how she had remained dead, how she was needed, and now after one hundred and two years she had been allowed access to the realm of earth to be the next chosen one.

He had seen her get furious at the demon, but she looked too tired and weak to rip his head off the way Spike wanted to.

He had watched her cry when she realized all her family and friends were dead, including Angel. That's when she had looked at Spike for support but he couldn't offer her any. His own emotions were about to jump off a cliff, his thoughts were jumbled together and it seemed almost unreal.

Like a moment suspended in time, a suspended animation that Spike refused to believe. She was not there and they where not having this conversation. When he woke from this nightmare, he was going to fuck Opal silly and kill whatever 'case' he had that day.

It felt almost like the past one hundred years had not happened, like he was a walking zombie and all was an illusion, like the only thing that was real was her being alive and giving him those looks.

He wanted to hate her more than anything. But he knew once you loved the girl there was no going back. He didn't love her anymore, not the way he did back then. Now it was different. She represented all those memories that he had pushed to the back of his mind.

--

_I didn't mean to fall in love with you  
And baby there's a name  
For what you put me through  
It isn't love, it's robbery  
I'm sleeping with the ghost of you and me_

It was wall too much for her. The last thing that she remembered was telling her sister that she loved her and jumping into a portal to save humanity.

Now when she wakes, opens her eyes to find a face she knew but has no idea who it is. She felt completely and utterly alone. That and she felt weak, her body felt like it had been sleeping for eons, but then she realized the weirdness in her life and just shook it off.

The wounds of things that happened so long ago where still fresh. She missed her mom most of all, now she would have no one. No sister, or watcher, or friends, no one but herself and the shell of a man she had once known.

This was not Spike, not her Spike. The Spike she remembered was vulnerable and sweet at times, completely in love and willing to do anything for her and her happiness. The Spike that passed and smoked before her was a strange man, secluded, mysterious, and hard.

The lines of his strong jaw seemed harder than usual and his body language depicted someone with extreme confidence in himself. But not the type of confidence that she had seen the first time she met him, it was a confidence that screamed normality.

And his clothes, her Spike had been all about Billy Idol black, this Spike looked like he just feel off a futuristic GQ magazine, and his hair! She had to do something about his hair, it was down to his neck, tied at the nape.

He was not nervous he was just confused. She could understand that, after not seeing her for one hundred years and thinking her dead...well she was dead, here she sat confused and alone.

Whistler was being kinder than usual, she noted, but then again he was always unpredictable.

"So tonight, you'll go with your friend Spike, and both of you will be on your way to the hell mouth in Bogota before you know it." Whistler finished his speech.

She could only nod numbly, she just wanted to crawl in her bed and never come out, then she realized that her bed was long gone and she would be starting fresh and new.

She shifted her weight, the feeling to her legs was slowly coming back, she just didn't know if she could move or not. She tried and failed miserably.

Whistler looked at Spike. The vampire sighed. He hated this.

He was by her side in a second. She looked up at the man before her expectantly. She cringed at the thought of what he had to do.

He bend down and without saying a word or looking at her scooped her up in his arms.

She shivered, he was so different. He seemed stronger than she had ever known him, but it was his confidence that shattered her nerves. He made her nervous. Like she didn't know what to say in front of him, thinking twice over her words to make sure she didn't flop in front of him.

Her small arms went around his strong neck and they made their way to the outside.

Whistler had said that she would go back home with Spike...oh no!!

"I am not sleeping in a crypt." She stated out of nowhere.

Spike looked at her long and hard. "Fine."

But he kept walking.

"I said I am not..."

"I heard what you said, Slayer."

She looked at him, he was being so...mean. He had not called her Slayer since...well one hundred years.

"Where are we going then?" She asked trying to ease the situation.

"My place." he simply stated and before she could answer they were outside, fresh into the morning dawn.

She shivered in his arms and her head bolted to look at him in surprise. "The sunlight!!" she cried.

He held her tighter but kept walking.

"Ring of Amara." Whistler said to the unlikely couple.

Buffy looked back at Spike as they stepped into the sunlight. She gasped as she say him in the warm morning light. He was so different, like meeting him for the first time. Her eyes widened as his bleach blonde hair reflected off him, giving him an angelic look.

"When?" She asked still looking at him.

He could feel her gaze on her and it bothered him, it was like a reminder that she was there, that she was not going to let him ignore her.

It was hell.

"'bout forty years back." He stated.

Buffy looked pensive,_ forty years_. The whole situation was unreal.

At that moment though held by Spike's strong arms she felt more alone and lost than ever. Strangely she missed his penetrating gazes that were always trying to figure her out. This man that smelled so good was a distant picture. He didn't care, he wanted her out of his life ASAP.

That made her scared. Who would she go to? What will she do?

She prayed for the powers to take her back. She did not want to live.

Spike stopped in front of his Vaken and Whistler opened the small compact door.

Buffy glared at the car.

"This is _your _car?" She addressed Spike but he ignored her and placed her in the passenger's seat tucking in her dead legs gently and closing the door for her. She was stunned and more than ever she wanted to be far away from everything including him.

Her eyes swelled up with tears, and she didn't understand why she was being so emotional. Perhaps it was that she felt cheated out of her 'duty' ticket, or perhaps was that the only other connection that she had to the life she cherished did not want her back.

--

_Seen a lot of broken hearts  
Go sailing by  
Phantom ships lost at sea  
And one of them is mine_

Whistler looked at Spike as he settled the girl in and turned to look at him.

"What's the matter with you," the demon demanded.

Spike pulled a cigarette out and lit it. "I don't know what your blabbering 'bout."

"Yes you do, you know very well what I am saying." he said pointing an accusing finger at Spike's chest. "That girl could have just had the trauma of her life and you're treating her like shit."

"This is not her place, this is not her time." he replied quietly without losing his temper. "I have a life, you know. Not gonna be after her like the wounded puppy I was back then. Got my own bleeding things to do, my own problems."

"I see." Whistler said nodding. "She reminds you of what you were, a pathetic man in love who forgot how to be a smartass. Who lost his identity in her eyes. She makes you question if you still want her, if you still want any woman at all. And you never want to go back there."

Spike shot out and punched the demon sending him flying to the floor.

"You have no bleeding idea what you're talking 'bout." Spike hissed at the man on the floor. "I died that day."

Whistler just looked at him with his hard face that meant, 'I know all the information good and dandy under the stars.'

"You'll see. Love does not go away. It is only ignored. Right now you are all she has. You're what she needs."

"Newsflash, mate. I've always been what she's needed. That's all I've been." With that he turned and jumped in his car driving off with the slayer.

Whistler watched over them back away and stood up slowly shaking his head. "And I thought Angel was bad...you'll see this time she'll see you." He whispered as he disappeared into thin air.

--

_Raising my glass  
I sing a toast to the midnight sky  
I wonder why  
The stars don't seem to guide me_

"Why did you hit Whistler?...I mean not that he doesn't deserve it most of the time, but that was..." She said in the car.

"Just a thing between me and 'im" Spike replied and drove in silence to his house.

Buffy peered at him form the corner of her eye. His hard jaw was strained and he looked positively pissed off, I mean she had seen him mad most of the time she'd known him, but right now he looked like you really shouldn't mess with him. So she decided to just let him lead her to a bed.

Spike's pale hands were paler at the knuckles.

There she was sitting in _His_ car out of all places and looking all vulnerable. Like it was his fault that this happened to her.

He didn't want to talk to her, he didn't want to see her, she belonged in his memories not in his present.

She could hear him grinding his teeth back and forth, so she thought it better to sit quietly. She wanted to ask questions about what had happened in the past years but she was afraid he might go off on her and she really didn't have the strength to fight him at the moment.

They pulled through a gated community with lavishly large houses. Some were very modern some looked antique, but all very expensive. They reached another gate where a guard saw the car come and opened the door without further question. The house came into view and Buffy was glad she was sitting down.

Where did Spike get so much money from? There it was, it must have been three stories high and typical Spanish hacienda look to it. It looked like it fell right off a James Bond Movie. There were so many balconies that were filled and adorned with all types of hanging plants. Flowers bloomed at the base and the edge of the balconies, mostly fuchsia and turquoise colors.

She gasped and he allowed himself to look at her.

Her small lips were shaped in a perfect "o" and her eyes were wide in amazement.

For that small second was all it took. This is the woman he had loved so long ago. He had nothing to offer her back then, he was nothing. Helping her for twenty bucks and a few pints of blood.

He felt ashamed.

_I didn't mean to fall in love with you  
And baby there's a name  
For what you put me through  
It isn't love, it's robbery  
I'm sleeping with the ghost of you and me_

She looked amazed at what he had become and he allowed a small smile to dance in his lips.

She turned to look at him and was surprise at his soft expression. She jumped in confusion and then bowed her head in embarrassment at her reaction to his property.

"You've done good with yourself." She said shyly.

"Well it kinda beats the crypt." He replied taking off his seat belt and getting up.

She watched him go around the car and opened her door. For some reason her heart beat fast, he was going to carry her again. Well the bedroom was probably upstairs and she knew for a fact that unless she got some sleep, her legs would just wobble like jelly.

He opened her door and picked her up, easily and effortlessly. Her small arms went around his neck and she blushed at their closeness.

He could feel her hot breath on his face and it made a weird sensation in his stomach, but he pushed it away, he was just probably hungry.

She felt good in his arms, small yet strong. Surprisingly he felt like his anger was evaporating and almost being replaced by joy. She was alive!

He walked to the entrance and she saw that they were already being expected, she blushed even harder when she saw three servants looking at them and smiling.

"Who are they?" She whispered to him.

He allowed himself to smile, this was too much.

"They work for me, pet." He said smiling at his crew.

She nodded numbly. Spike with servants? Can this day get stranger?

"Senor! La senorita esta bien?" (Sir, is the lady alright?) Efrain asked consernd as he saw his master carrying the blonde.

"Si ella esta bien, solo nessesita descansar." (Yeah, she's fine, just needs a little rest.) He replied.

Buffy looked at Spike in amazement. He just spoke Spanish in perfect agility.

"You speak Spanish?" She asked him.

"I speak fourteen different languages, being two hundred, twenty years does that." He replied as they entered the house.

She was completely amazed.

_The ghost of you and me  
When will it set me free  
I hear the voices call  
Following footsteps down the hall  
Trying to save what's left  
Of my heart and soul_

The house inside was even more magnificent than the outside.

She could tell that no expense had been spared. From the Persian carpets, to the thick custom made curtains, and hardwood and tile floors.

The walls were decorated with rare paintings and exotic artifacts. What she found most funny was the amounts of mirrors the house contained, was Spike trying to remind himself he was a vampire?

She giggled lightly and he looked at her surprised, was she making fun of his house? Too nancy-boy like?

"What?" he glared.

"Mirrors...all over. Don't your servants gets suspicious that their 'master' is MIA?" She asked smiling.

"They know, slayer." He stated and started walking up the grand stair case in the center of the large foyer. The stairs were made out of pure marble, and the handles were gold. There were large pots of flowers and plants adorned throughout the house and Buffy could smell the scent of nature within the estate.

"They know?" She asked amazed. "Are they vamp..."

"Nope. Can't trust vampires in my line of work."

"Your line of work?" She asked raising an eyebrow.

"I'll tell you all about my 'calling' after you've rested." he said walking down the hall.

The hall was filled with more paintings and mirrors and plants in pots, some even hanging form the ceilings. There were a lot of windows also. She had to admit the house was beautifully decorated.

"Oh...so you're talking to me then." She asked him.

He stopped and looked straight ahead.

She could see the hard lines in his face and his crushing teeth underneath the pallid skin of his cheekbones.

"I am... you..." she started.

"You have to understand..." he took an unneeded breath. "You've been dead, for me, I buried you. It hurt like hell and at times it still does but for me you are dead. And all the sudden you're alive and talking like nothing happened. Like the past hundred years did not occur," he said slowly.

"Spike, I..."

"Please lets just get used to the changes." He said and continued walking.

They passed several doors until he stopped in front of a large gold-platted one and waited to be opened.

A woman came hurriedly from behind him and opened the door for her master. "Senor." (Sir) she said.

"Gracias." (Thanks)

--

_Watching the candle flicker out  
In the evening glow  
I can't let go  
When will the night be over_

Buffy gawked at her room. It was larger than her the bottom floor of her house,...well what used to be her house.

There was a four poster canopy bed in the middle, made out of cherry wood, and the quilts were red silk. It looked fluffy and damn right sexy.

The pillows thrown on top of it were golden silk. The carpets were thick in ivory cream and she could see how Spike's boots sunk into it.

There was a large window balcony that opened, letting in the morning sun. The curtains were translucent red that gave the room a dark yet bright glow.

"This is my room?" She asked in wonder.

He nodded and walked over to her bed placing her down gently.

He grabbed hold of the cherry oak poll and thanked him.

He walked over to the curtains, opening them, letting the sun in completely.

The woman who had opened the door for Spike brought in a tray of what Buffy guessed was food, placing it on the night table.

"Eat, you looked terribly thin. And this is your closet, Paola will help you with anything you need. And please don't hesitate to ask."

Buffy looked at Spike who had now taken off his black leather overcoat and was left with a tight fitting ivory cashmere polo whose sleeves claimed his tight arms, marking out his sculpted chest, and black Dockers that tightly fir his lower body, giving away the slightest peek of his muscular legs and rounded ass.

_"You're right, he is evil. But you should see him naked, really." _She remembered the Buffybot saying.

She knew she was staring, but he looked so human and if she even dared think sexy she would smack herself.

"Senorita?" (Miss?)

Buffy was staring.

"Senorita?" (Miss?)

"Buffy!" Spike got her attention from Spike-staring land.

"What?" she asked startled.

"Paola is talking to you." Spike said smirking and pointing to the plump woman smiling at her.

"Sorry." she mumbled.

"Eat?" the woman asked.

"Yes, thanks you." Buffy said as Paola revealed her breakfast feast.

"I have to go out for few hours so relax. Eat, shower, sleep, we'll talk later." Spike said.

Buffy immediately looked at him. He was leaving her alone?

"You're going out?" She asked frantically.

"Don't worry you're safe." he said walking slowly to where she was at. "I trust my people with my life."

"Where are you going?" She asked taking the plate from the Spanish woman.

"I have a case I have to deal with before we leave to Columbia." He said placing his over coat on once more.

"When are we leaving?"

"The day after tomorrow. Don't worry about packing, Paola will do that, just be ready when we get clearance." He started walking out.

"Spike?" She cried out after him.

"Yeah, Slayer?" he asked turning around.

"I won't bother you much longer with my presence, as soon as I get used to this I'll get a job and I'll..."

"Don't worry 'bout it." he said dismissively. But she still felt bad, she felt like she was taking charity from this man she knew she had treated badly. "You'll stay until you're ready."

"Ready for what?"

"To be a Slayer." he stated and walked out the door.

She stared after him as tears swelled in her eyes. "Please go." she asked the servant and she nodded leaving the blonde to be by herself.

Buffy sunk herself on the soft bed that gave her no comfort. She felt totally and completely alone.

_I didn't mean to fall in love with you  
And baby there's a name  
For what you put me through  
It isn't love, it's robbery  
I'm sleeping with the ghost of you and me_


	4. Witness to my Life

This Old Fool (100 Years of Solitude)

Witness to my Life (100 Years of Solitude)

-Disclaimers: Title belong entirely to Gabriel Garcia, just borrowing it for the sake of the story. Buffy, Spike, Whistler and all the memories belong to Joss and his crew, all other characters are entirely mine. Lyrics by Celine Dion All By Myself and No Llores por el by Jorge Morel and Goo Goo Dolls, Iris.

--

"There was once a man who loved you too much to change you."

from First Knight

--

_She hit his jaw with her right leg and sent him flying across the room. She smiled at her improvement. _

_He glared at her as he stood up on the mat, bringing his hand to feel his jaw, she had almost dislocated it._

_"Nice, luv, very nice."_

_"Had a good teacher." she said panting and in fighting pose._

_"Is that so?" he asked stalking up to her, but instead of fighting her ran after her. Her blue eyes widened as she knew what was coming and she took of running and squealing._

_"No, Spike! Please don't!" she cried out, but he was merciless and tackled her on the ground, tickling her until she screamed._

_"Say mercy." he said stopping as he pinned her underneath his body._

_She raised her head and fake-glared at him "Never."_

_He tickled her again. She squealed some more._

_"Stop!!" she cried laughing._

_"Well that's convincing!" he said as his hands covered her._

_"Get off me you overgrown bat!" she said with tears of laughter running down her now slim cheeks._

_"What's wrong lil' bit? I though you were tougher than this?" He said stopping but still pinning her down._

_She panted still giggling as she looked at him._

_Her wide blue eyes had acquired a certain maturity since the ten years after her sister had died for her, for all of them._

_Her now shoulder length wavy hair was sprawled out on the floor and her cheeks were flushed pink from perspiration and desire._

_Without thinking she did what she had wanted to do for years and reached up and kissed him sweetly on his slightly parted lips._

_It came out of no where and he was beyond stunned and mortified. He had not meant to give her that type of signal._

_He pulled back and stared at her in confusion. It was now him who was panting._

_"I love you." she whispered as her bottom lip trembled slightly._

_He eased off her still shocked beyond words. He sat on the mat next to her staring at the floor with open eyes and parted lips._

_She laid out on the mat, still panting and not believing herself for what she had done._

_Finally awoken from her hazy thoughts she sat up to look at him, he had not moved._

_"Spike?" she asked placing her slim fingers on his bare shoulder. He didn't move._

_"I know it's not like that for you. I know you still love her. I know you'll always see me as your little sister or maybe even your best friend, but..." she swallowed as tears swelled in her eyes. "But, me...I'll always love you." she laughed a quietly. "Now I know how you must have felt."_

_He turned to look at the woman before him. She had turned out to be beautiful, even more gorgeous than his Buffy. But she was still not her._

_Her eyes were still as wide and as expressive as ever, her baby fat had completely melted away, leaving behind sculpted cheekbones, and a rounded mouth making her an impressive 24 year old. Her hair took a natural wave once she turned 16 and was now slightly highlighted blonde. The light strands fell on her face ever so gentle as she looked at him with tears streaming down her cheeks._

_"Nibblet, it's not..."_

_"Please, Spike. Don't call me Nibblet." she said sadly._

_A lump came to his throat. He had cared for this girl like it was his own and he had felt a change in her for the past, maybe five years. But he had decided to ignore it. He was just probably lonely._

_"Sure, pet." he whispered._

_She raised her hand to his sculpted cheek and ran her thumb across his face._

_He closed hi eyes, when he was with her it felt like Buffy. As if it was Buffy's hand touching him and he knew it was not fair to her._

_"John asked me to marry him." she said looking at him as his eyes shot open. There was that genuine father's worry in his eyes and it killed her even more._

_"I said yes." she whispered. _

_"Dawn, you hardly know the guy." Spike said concerned. "I mean he could..."_

_She brought her finger to his lips and motioned him to shut up. She tilted her head slightly and leaned in to his ear, brushing it ever so lightly with her lips, her hand cupped his cheek as her tears burned his chest._

_"Know this," she whispered. "You have been...beyond words. And I will always, always, love...you."_

_She leaned back and looked at him, he looked like a mixture of hurt and confusion. "She was a blind not to love you, you're so easy to love." She told him as she stood up and walked out the training room._

--

Spike was brought back from his memories as he approached his house. And there she would be. She would still be asleep by now, he had only been gone for a couple of hours. His shirt was ruined, and he had liked this shirt too.

_Bugger_. He thought. _Damn Ghora Demon_. Then again the creature could have reminded him is Dawn and of times so long ago, lost and gone forever.

He pulled his car up to the drive way as servants came out to greet him and this his vehicle away.

When Paola saw him emerge all dirty she ran upstairs to start his bath.

Jermina ran to the kitchen to get his blood heated up and Efrain ran to get his coat.

Within a half hour he was in his room with a warm cup of blood in his hand, freshly bathed and in his robe, and ready to plunge to bed.

He was brought back to reality when his door opened harshly.

He knew it was not one of his servants because they would never enter in that fashion, he knew it was not Buffy, she was knocked out, so it only lead to one explanation.

"Thought I'd never see you again." he said without turning back.

"I came to get my things, unless you have any other names to scream." Opal said as she walked in to his closet and started putting thing in her luggage.

--

_When I was young  
I never needed anyone _

_And making love was just for fun  
Those days are gone_

Buffy awoke form her deep sleep by the voices in the room next door. She would have normally ignored it except it was Spike's and another woman.

For some reason this did not settle well in her stomach and she stood from her silk blankets to check if her legs worked.

They did, apparently Whistler the Weasel was right.

She felt a bit shaky but perhaps she just needed to eat, she had not been able to eat since she had gotten to his house.

Pushing herself out of bed she grabbed her robe, that was tended to the side of her bed and walked slowly and unsurely to the large oak door.

As she moved the noises grew louder, she asked herself why should she care that Spike has found another ho', but it did and they were clearly arguing.

She moved out to the hallway and followed the voices to were she stood before the large oak door. A woman was talking and she strained to listen to their conversation, but for some reason her normally high Slayer senses were failing her now, she had to remember to ask Spike about that.

As she did her spying she pushed out of her mind all the reasons as to why she was doing this, it was Spike and he could do whatever the hell he wanted with his life. Not her problem and she didn't care, it's just...

But before she could finish the thought she heard footsteps from the inside walking towards the door, she quickly backed up and ready to sprint to her room, when her still shaky legs gave out from underneath her and she fell flat on her butt.

She tried to stand up frantically, she would be majorly mortified if she were caught in her spying. But it was too late, the door opened.

She gulped in humiliation and slowly looked to see who had caught her. Please not Spike. She chanted.

Before her stood a woman. A beautiful woman. She must have been in her late twenties, a complete look alike of Catherine Zeta Jones. Long black hair cascading to her mid-waist, shinny and wavy. Her eyes were large and brown, very expressive and very seductive. Her lips were painted red, against her olive skin and her nose was thin and elegant. She had high cheekbone that gave her a movie-star appearance. Poised, she was quite the lady, dressed in a perfectly pressed ivory suit, fitted so that her large chest would show just a hint of classic cleavage. Her hand was at her hip and she glared down at the slayer.

"And who might you be," she asked. She must be Spanish, Buffy thought, her accent was light but palpable.

She stammered until she saw Spike come up behind the dark beauty and look over her shoulder.

_Oh God, could this get any worse_? She asked herself.

"Buffy? What the bleeding hell are you doing up and 'bout?" he asked passing right by the woman and to lend Buffy a helping hand.

"I...I was just..." she started.

"You're Buffy?" the woman asked but looked at Spike immediately.

Spike groaned. He was not in the mood.

"I thought you were leaving, Opal." he stated helping Buffy back up.

Opal smiled sweetly at Buffy and walked up to her. Spike narrowed his eyes at his ex-girlfriend.

"Picking them kinds young, aren't you?" she asked Spike but looked at Buffy up and down.

Buffy shrunk against her gaze, it was like a female defending what was hers.

"Get the hell out." Spike hissed.

Opal threw her luggage over her shoulder and walked around Buffy, still smiling and called out to her over her shoulder. "He loves a good blow job."

Buffy eyes went wide in embarrassment. This was getting ridiculous. She couldn't bear to look at Spike, and he was in his robe and by the looks of it, nothing else.

Spike sighed and looked at the Slayer. "Sorry 'bout that," he mumbled.

"Ex-girlfriend?" Buffy asked looking at his irritated face.

"Shagging partner." He stated and walked to his door. "Go to bed, Slayer. You have a long day ahead."

"Spike!"

He turned to look at her. But she didn't know what to say.

He waited.

She looked down to her hand, fidgeting. "Uhm..."

"Slayer, why were you here?" He asked gazing at her. She was uncomfortable and he knew it.

"I heard noises." she stated with wide eyes.

"Noises?" he asked leaning against his door frame.

"Yeah, like talking." she said nodding. God this was terrible. She thought.

"Pet, there are fifteen people that reside in this house, you'll always hear talking," he said, clearly amused by her uncertainty.

"Good to know," she said. "Well then, goodnight." She turned and headed to her room.

He watched her retreat and said nothing. Just shook his head and went into his room.

Nope, this was definitely not her Spike. Her Spike would have tagged after her until she told him to drop deader, this one just looked at her and made her feel...beneath him.

This was like some bad nightmare, where Spike was even more confident and more conceited, and she was a mumbling idiot who snuck about trying to hear the conversations that he had with his shagging partner.

Maybe sleep was good, maybe she'll wake up.

_Livin' alone  
I think of all the friends I've known  
When I dial the telephone  
Nobody's home _

_All by myself  
Don't wanna be  
All by myself  
Anymore_

--

_The room was lit brightly, and though a small wedding it was a beautiful wedding. He wandered the room saying hello to the few people he knew, being a gentleman for her sake._

_To make her proud._

And I'd give up forever to touch you  
'Cause I know that you feel me somehow  
You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be  
And I don't want to go home right now

_The bow tie at his neck had long gone since they had walked out of the chapel, he's be damned if he wore that nancy boy outfit all evening long._

_Though she had not seen him, she had watched from the shadows. He remembered looking at her cascading white dress and thinking how Buffy would have liked to see her._

_Then a pang hit his chest as he remembered that he had to be Buffy's eyes, see all she would never see, experience all that she would never feel._

_Out of the crowd he spotted the bride._

_He smiled in pride._

_She was beautiful._

And all I can taste is this moment  
And all I can breathe is your life  
'Cause sooner or later it's over  
I just don't want to miss you tonight

_Her long curls had been pinned lightly and naturally to the top of her head, tiny tendrils fell on her forehead as she bent down and kiss Alexander on the forehead. Anya held him proudly in her arms._

_Again he looked at the scene and wished that Buffy could have seen it._

_She looked up and saw him coming, her face lit up as he approached._

_He could feel the love radiating to him like a wave of force. He smiled sadly. He had to let her go._

_She was a complete woman now, with a husband and soon kids, and the white house with the picket fence that would come once she moved to Jersey._

_She was leaving him. They thought it for the best._

_But it still killed him inside. She was all he had left of Buffy, with her gone he was in complete solitude._

_She walked up to him and met him half way. They didn't speak. Her blue eyes searched his face like she always did and she extended her gloved hand._

_"Dance with me?" she asked him. He nodded and took her out to the dance floor._

And I don't want the world to see me  
'Cause I don't think that they'd understand  
When everything's made to be broken  
I just want you to know who I am

_They got as close as her large fluffy dress would let them. He held her small waist with his firm hand and she relaxed against his embrace._

_Slowly they swayed._

_Not a word was spoken._

And you can't fight the tears that ain't coming  
Or the moment of truth in your lies  
When everything feels like the movies  
Yeah you bleed just to know you're alive

_She rested her head on his shoulder and he could smell the vanilla perfume from her hair, it reminded him of..._

_She held him closer, feeling his firm body press against her bodice, her nipples answered to her need. This was her wedding day, the happiest day of her life, yet she felt like screaming at the unfairness of it all._

_"Buffy would be so proud," she whispered to her ear._

_She smiled and silently agreed._

_She did miss her sister, all would have turned out so differently if she was still with them._

_"And your mom," he continued._

_A small tear ran down her cheek full of loss for her sister, mother, and this man she loved so much._

_"You cryin', pet?" he asked looking at her._

_She nodded._

_"Why?" he whispered._

_"Because I am so happy." she lied._

_He nodded in understanding, he could always tell when she was lying to him and to any other person._

_"You didn't have to marry him, you know." he told her._

And I don't want the world to see me  
'Cause I don't think that they'd understand  
When everything's made to be broken  
I just want you to know who I am

_"I know."_

_"Then why did you?"_

_Silence as they danced, so close she could hardly breathe but didn't complain._

_"Because I can't have you."_

He woke from his dream panting and remembering the sad memory. He looked out the star filled sky and hung his head. Yeah she'd be real proud. He thought.

--

She woke several hours later and instantly questioned where she was at. Why wasn't she in her room?

Then it dawned on her.

Her entire existence had changed. All those she loved were dead, all that was left was her and...him.

She wanted to bury herself in her pillow and stay there in the darkened room until life would expire out of her.

But she heard Paola come into the room and open the curtains singing at the same time.

"Estas son las mañanitas que contaba el rey David, a las muchachas bonitas, te la cantó yo a ti..." (These are the lovely morning that King David sung about, to all the pretty ladies, I will sing them now to you...) She sung as she went about in the room.

Buffy groaned,...and she thought her morning alarm as bad!

She reluctantly got off the bed and made her way to the bathroom.

By the time she was ready to dress she walked over to her closet. Astounded as she found it filled with clothes. From gorgeous ball gowns to little details of lingerie. She silently wondered if any of these had belonged to Opal.

But the tags on everything told her otherwise.

The clothes were a bit futuristic but not much change.

Everything was designer clothes, she silently wondered how much money Spike had and how the hell he had come by it.

Probably stole it. She thought.

She grabbed a pair of dark denim jeans that were coincidentally her size and a tight white tank top. It was relatively hot here in Spain.

Though she was extremely depressed she wished to go out and look at the city, she had never been to Spain before and never did she thing she would ever get to go.

Pulling on her clothes she grabbed a pair a strappy sandals and headed downstairs.

She could hear music coming from below, it was classic Spanish music, the rhythm filled the large house and she was instantly drawn to it. The male voice filled the room.

_Embes de ponerte a pensar en el (Instead of thinking of him)_

_Embes que vivas llorando por el (Instead of living crying for him)_

_Piensa en mi, llora por mi, llamame a mi (Think of me, cry for me, call me)_

_No lo le hables a el, a el, no llores por el (Don't talk to him, to him, don't cry for him)_

She walked down the large stair case and she noted how much strength her legs had acquired. Paola came from behind her and guided her to the living area.

The house must have cost him a couple of millions, she thought.

They entered the living area were Spike had the entertainment system playing at a loud voice.

He was dressed completely in ivory and white.

He had on ivory linen pants that hung loosely around his legs and a white cotton short sleeve shirt that was completely unbuttoned, sharing his perfectly sculpted chest with the rest of the world.

_Piensa en mi, llora por mi, llamame a mi (Think of me, cry for me, call me)_

_No lo le hables a el, a el, no llores por el (Don't talk to him, to him, don't cry for him)_

He turned to look at her and gave her a small smile, but it was a smile of pity. Like poor girl.

He walked to meet her and she tried to concentrate on his face instead of his bulging eight pack that was playing peek-a-boo with her.

She smiled a little, trying to ease the discomfort.

"Bachata." he said.

She looked at him like he had grown a second head. "What?"

"Bachata." he repeated. "The music, it's called bachata." he said looking at her.

She nodded. "Oh...it's nice,...all Spanish and stuff."

He smiled at her astute comment and extended his hand.

She looked at the hand as if it would bite her.

"What?" she asked confused by his actions, he was being different than yesterday and silently swore as she realized she was dealing with a vampire on PMS.

"Dance, it's called dancing." he said with his hand still out.

She looked faint, here was Spike, looking so...she was not going there and he was asking her to dance some dance she had no idea how to.

She shook her head. "I don't know how to dance this." she told him lightly wishing he would drop the subject and that he would button up his shirt.

He smirked at her and she aw for an instant that same cocky Spike she had come to...well appreciate.

Without warning he snaked his arms around her and pressed her against his chest, grabbing her hips tightly and touching nothing with his other.

She looked at him with wide eyes. His chest was pressed against her intimately, the coldness of him shivered her to the core, and he smelled of cigarettes and cologne.

He gently swayed his hips against her pelvis until she was beet red with embarrassment. She tried to push him off but her arms had decided to ignore her plea so she was stuck at looking at him. His dark gaze was not with her. For him it was only a dance, a way to have fun, and here she felt like a bitch on heat.

_Recurda que hace mucho tiempo to amo (Remember I've loved you for a very long time)_

_Quiero hacerte muy, muy feliz (I want to make you so happy)_

_Vamos a tomar el primer avión (Lets take the first flight)_

_Con destino a felicidad (As destiny, our happiness)_

_La felicidad, para mi eres tu (Mi happiness, for me it is you)_

She thought she would die, her heart rate sped up as he pressed closer to her and began singing the lyrics in her ear, his English accent giving the Spanish words a sexy curve that felt like melting in her ear.

She was sure she was radiating heat, she felt hot all over, gasping almost for breath, she prayed the song would stop so she could run in embarrassment at her body's reaction.

He was having the time of his life. Opal had never liked to dance in private, only in public where she could show off. And Buffy, well he knew he was making her uncomfortable and was greatly enjoying it, even though the words to the song hit home, he ignored the feeling of comfort he was receiving by having her petite body so intimate with his.

_Piensa en mi, llora por mi, llamame a mi (Think of me, cry for me, call me)_

_No lo le hables a el, a el, no llores por el (Don't talk to him, to him, don't cry for him)_

_Piensa en mi, llora por mi, llamame a mi (Think of me, cry for me, call me)_

_No lo le hables a el, a el, no llores por el (Don't talk to him, to him, don't cry for him)_

The song faded as the sad voice left the room.

Spike stood back to look at the very flushed Slayer and smiled. "That wasn't so bad, was it Slayer?"

She could only nod.

He turned and looked at Paola. "Breakfast in my office." he told her and she scurried off.

He looked at Buffy was a healthy shade of pink and looking at him in astonishment. "It's only dancing, pet. Don't get yer knickers in a twist." he said and turned down the hall. "Are you coming?" he called after her.

Buffy shook herself off her trance.

She replayed the events in her head. _Spike's chest, dancing with Spike, getting turned on by Spike, being embarrassed by Spike. _She narrowed her eyes and the Slayer shone through. It was time for the bitch to come out.

--

She followed him shortly to find him talking to himself.

She glared at the vampire like he had finally lost his rocker.

"No! I need it for tomorrow afternoon, you goon...well make it happen! What the hell am I paying for, to play with your dick?...call operations and let them know who it is and my situation!!...Or course they know who I am!...you've got two hours to tell me it's a go or they'll be finding you body parts a millennium."

He cut the connection by pulling out the ear piece.

Buffy had tried to ignore the colorful conversation that Spike was having with whomever it was and wondered about his office. It was dark and looked very old English style. Thick carpets, cherry wood, bourbon, shelves of books.

But is was very large. Almost as large as her room. There were two large arm chairs made out of wine leather with gold pillows that looked as hard as the chairs, she guessed no one used them.

She saw frames on top of his desk and went to see what slut did he have there.

The face that looked back at her made her heart stop.

Spike hung up with his pilot and turned to look at her.

He gulped when she found the pictures, he should have put them away.

She reached out and stretched out her hand to touch the frame, tears formed in her eyes.

"Tell me everything." she whispered.

He looked at her and nodded, it was time for her to know the truth.

He motioned for her to sit down. She did, taking one of the hard armchairs, with the stuffy gold pillows.

He paced the room for a while then stopped and took the chair across from her, taking an unneeded breath.

"Right then, after you died..."

--

Kelly: You hated being alone. Couldn't stand it. Busy every minute. Always plugged into something.

Chuck: I didn't know what really being alone was. No one back here does.

from Cast Way


	5. The Right to Grief

This Old Fool (100 Years of Solitude)

The Right to Grief (100 Years of Solitude)

-Disclaimers: Title belong entirely to Gabriel Garcia, just borrowing it for the sake of the story. Buffy, Spike, Whistler and all the memories belong to Joss and his crew, all other characters are entirely mine. Lyrics Bon Jovi's Always.

--

"Is all that we see or seem, but a dream within a dream?"

Edgar Allen Poe

--

_The romeo is bleeding, but you can't see his blood.  
It's nothing but some feelings, that this old dog kicked up._

"She fell in love with you." Buffy stated as she entered Spike's office. She had gone up to her room after Spike had decided it was better for her to just read Dawn's journals instead of him reliving all those memories. Memories that still brought pain so fresh and so raw, pain that had made him retreat into himself.

He didn't look up form the paperwork he was doing but his jaw tightened visibly and uncomfortably.

There was silence as she studied him and he let her look. His face seemed different than what she remembered. His lines weren't so harsh, now it looked as if he had been sculpted out of pain, suffering and loneliness.

"It must have been terrible for you..." she said in a sad low voice.

He paused what he was doing and gently placed his fountain pen down, leaning back on his large leather chair he lifted his gaze to look at her. She was clutching one of her sister's notebook, those some notebooks he had once thought to be his greatest possessions.

There was a look of hurt and repression in his eyes, one that she had never seen. Never had he looked so human, so capable of emotion, so vulnerable. But he quickly shielded his window and didn't let her in on his grief.

"T'was," he whispered not meeting her eyes.

She watched him play with his hand for a while and noticed that he no longer painted his finger nails. He said nothing more and the silence between them was growing uncomfortable.

"It stopped at age twenty-five." Buffy said after a while.

"She got married at twenty-five," he said rising from his seat and walking to the open window.

"I know...but when...I mean did she have children,...when did she..." Buffy said through a muffled voice. She had been crying for the past couple of hours as she read through her sister's sad writings. There were so full of emotions, so full of grief that it pained her to continue reading but she did anyway, she didn't stop until she reached the day before her wedding day where she had cried herself to sleep.

"Die?" He asked from his place. She approached him silently never adverting her eyes from his broad muscular back that was seen through his light cotton shirt.

She stopped a few feet from him and looked at him with pained eyes.

"Yes," she whispered unable to say it louder, maybe the quietness will make it whispers in a dream, maybe the silence in the room would blow the words away and make them disappear. But it didn't, they're still there, and the only thing the silence does is laugh at her. A venomous, hissing laugh that chills her to the bone.

"She was forty-one." Pause "She couldn't have children, guess the monks forgot to give her a reproductive system, the bastards." he said with toxin dripping from his voice.

"What did she die of?" Buffy asked but not really wanting to know. It was too surreal, it was like reading pages of an ancient book, finding destinies between the pages.

"It wasn't really death,...at the end,..." he swallowed. "She was becoming so wise,...as if the 'key' part of her wanted to break from the confinements of a human body. She grew thin, very quickly. But there was no suffering. I couldn't bear it if there was any suffering, would have killed 'er myself if she would have been in pain. But it wasn't like that,...it was more of drifting like a drift to sleep, a peaceful sleep." He gave her a non-humorous laugh. "Reminded me of Yoda. Just simply...vanished. It was her time. The powers had called her and where she laid stayed a shiny shimmery green light. For years that light watched over me. It was like feeling her presence with me all the time."

He hung his head. Memories were not supposed to be dug out, but kept in the confinements of the human heart.

_It's been raining since you left me,  
Now I'm drowning in the flood.  
You see I've always been a fighter,  
But without you I give up._

"I've never talked about her death to anyone...until now." He said in a hushed tone.

He turned his body to face her. She looked more at peace than he was. Perhaps he had placed her in one of her catatonia trances she used to drift to.

"Are you ok?" he asked, knowing that this must be killing her.

Buffy studied him for some time. There was a time in her life were Spike was the most confusing man in the planet, but for some reason he was as clear as glass in that moment.

He had lived her life.

Lived and suffered for it at the same time. Because it only took one moment to fall in love with her and he was doomed to care for each of her friends, watching them die, one by one, and being left all alone.

"For some reason...it's ok." There was a lump in her throat. "Like I know they're ok. I feel as if,...I've been with them for a long time. Like I haven't missed them."

He gave her a small smile. "It's your soul." he stated knowingly.

She gave him a questioning glance.

"You see." he said walking up to her and placing his cold hand on her chest to gesture his point. "The soul knows. It has been with them for the past years."

"You mean like with them in heaven?" she asked confused.

He nodded.

"It knows, it knows that where they are, and it knows it's a better place than this wasteland." he said taking his hand away from her chest, she instantly wished he hadn't, there had been a comfort in his touch. A cool warmth that reminded her of a time long ago...

"So it has accepted it," she said nodding. She thought for a moment. "It doesn't make me less lonely."

He smiled and turned back to the window. "No it doesn't."

_Now I can't sing a love song,  
Like the way it's meant to be.  
Well, I guess I'm not that good anymore,  
But baby, that's just me._

She studied him again. She found herself doing that a lot, almost like trying to figure out who he was.

"How have you made it," she asked tentatively.

He took a deep unnecessary breath.

"That's when Whistler found me." he said lightly.

"Angel much?" she asked giving him a small smile.

But he didn't respond to her small joke and she shrunk back in self-consciousness.

"In 2056, the Council was destroyed. WW III had just ended..."

"World War Three?" Buffy asked astounded.

He nodded and continued. "It was a basic power struggle like your classical war. The battle field was England, and well the concept of the council was lost. The slayer then, Margarite was 'turned', sired by my once love-Drusilla, who is now a pile of dust by the way." he said as he walked to sit on the leather chair.

"So, she was a bitch on wheels, perky lil' thing. But bad ass, if you know what I mean. I went back to England to see what was left of my country and I ran in to the shit. She was completely gone, I could sense the darkness around her, pissed as hell at the world and more powerful than any vampire I've met. She wanted to kill 'William the Bloody', but like you know I am not that easy to kill. She challenged me, I resisted, but she tried anything to get me to fight her, to prove who was better. The last straw was killin' Dru in front of me...So I killed 'er." he said nonchalantly but if Buffy knew Spike at all he must have been a mess.

He continued. "Once she was dead at my feet, Whistler materialized right in front of me and thanked me for my favor to the powers."

He smiled remembering that day.

"I almost killed 'im that night. But he begged me to follow 'im to the ruins of the council. I, havin' nothin' better to do, followed 'im. Once inside, the destruction around us was so...terrible. Demons had gotten there before the end of the war. There were mutilated corpses of the watchers all over the place. He took me to this 'altar' looking place and told me this is were Slayers were born. I reminded 'im that they had mothers and such, but he explained that this is were their souls were made. After he said that Hansel and Gretel appeared, those were the new oracles, and told me of my destiny. I laughed at them at first, but the clan can give a bloke a very convincing headache.

They explained that the balance needed to be kept until the next slayer arrived and that was my job. Someone, a pacifier, needed to exist to maintain peace while there was chaos, to train the new slayers, to set them on their paths, to guide 'em in the old ways. So that's what I do. I am the peace between slayers. That has been my reason for un-living. I've met and trained every slayer since 2056." he finished looking at her.

She was looking at him wide mouthed and dazzled.

_And I will love you, baby - Always.  
And I'll be there forever and a day - Always.  
I'll be there till the stars don't shine,  
Till the heavens burst and the words don't rhym_e.

"You're the council?" she whispered.

"In embodiment, yes. No more stuffy men that drink tea, just me and the army that is me," he said lifting his arms as to show himself off. "Me and the players."

"The Players?" she asked confused as she raised her brow in question.

"Well it goes back down to you, you're a legendary slayer, you know. I have my girls molded after your style. They live to the age of about thirty one." he said proud of himself. "If they live to be thirty two-they get to retire. My rules. My world," he paused standing up. "The Card Players, as they are known, is molded after the original Scoobies. It's a group of Six of the very best of what we need. They are only called when needed, but we generally kick ass when it comes down to it."

"You put these human's lives in danger?" she asked concerned.

He laughed lightly. "No, you don't understand. The world knows 'bout us, demons I mean. In 2075 things changed, when WW IV ended and the world was and currently is controlled by one world order. We are the special forces. Their jobs, the card players, are the most sought after positions in the planet. We have three open hell mouths at the moment. One in Tokyo, South Africa, and Bogota. Therefore we have three slayers."

"WHAT!!" she asked standing up looking at him as if he had gone mad.

"Relax, slayer. The world is bit more full of mayhem and destruction than it was in your time. Humans know about demons and such, known since mid-century."

"Was that the cause of WW IV, the discovery and acceptance of demons?" she asked sitting down.

He nodded. "At the end, a peace agreement was made and the two worlds combined to one. Now demons walk free upon the earth along with humans. That and plus the changes in the atmosphere only allow the sun to shine for five hours of the day. The rest is perpetual night."

She saddened. This was all too much for her, she felt as if though she had stepped in some type of Star Wars dream and was never going to wake up.

"But,...technology, it seems to me it hasn't changed all that much."

"Well the government has control over that, since 2033." he said. "So unless you work for the government, you're stuck in 2030. Which was not very different than what you recall, after Bill Gates went bankrupt and all."

"But the things that you have,..."

"I work for 'em. I get my assignments directly from operations."

"You mean like the case you went out for last night?" she asked.

He nodded lighting up his cigarette.

"So why are we going to Bogota?" she asked regarding him. He was all business, this was his battle field.

_And I know when I die, you'll be on my mind.  
And I love you - Always._

"Tatiana died two days ago, the hellmouth is without a slayer. So I need to get you re-instated, place you with Sammy and be on my way."

His words felt like acid on her stomach, and she knew she had paled. He was just leaving her, as if she were another 'case', just another assignment!

"You're leaving me there?" she asked horrified.

He stopped and looked at her, she looked scared. "That's my job, pet."

She nodded in realization. This has gone far enough! She thought.

"Right, your job...do me a favor Spike and don't pretend to care."

She got him angry, she could see it in the tightening of his law. Well it was about time to get some type of a reaction from him!

He walked up to her, glaring all the time. "You think I don't care," he asked her bluntly.

She laughed bitterly at him. "Care? You don't know what it is to care! You walk around so high and mighty that you don't see past your own nose and your car. Tell me, when was the last time you cared for some other than yourself and your cause? Stop with the damn cryptic illusions and your damn diplomacy! You say the council is over and things have changed but I see it shinning through your eyes."

His eyes narrowed as he approached the upset woman before him.

_Now your pictures that you left behind,  
Are just memories of a different life.  
Some that made us laugh, some that made us cry,  
One that made you have to say goodbye. _

"If you are so different from the council then why weren't you there with your slayer? Ha? Perhaps she would have lived five more years, five more months, five more fucking days! " she finished hissing.

"You know why they die," he spat out as he approached her.

"And I also know why they live," she cried out to him, couldn't he see!?

"You have no idea what you're talking 'bout," he said, deciding to walk away.

"Perhaps I do," she stated with tears in her eyes from her spent up anger at the entire situation but most of all at him.

"Do you, now? By all means enlighten us with your valley-girl-intelligence," he said extending his arms out in mock resignation.

She glared at him poisonously.

"You're incapable of love," she said. He looked at her as if he were to hit her.

_What I'd give to run my fingers through your hair,  
To touch your lips, to hold you near.  
When you say your prayers try to understand,  
I've made mistakes, I'm just a man._

Her bottom lip trembled as tears ran down her cheek. "That's the reason isn't it. I was right about you all along." she laughed bitterly. "What fool I was to think, that day in my house,...that you gave a fuck." she whispered. "Maybe that's why you didn't love my sister. She was better of not knowing the monster you really are!"

With that, his hand came out and back slapped her across her face knocking her across the room and landing with a thud on the floor.

He stalked up to the fallen Slayer and pointed his finger at her. "I loved her more than you ever did." he hissed at her, his eyes more narrow than she had ever seen them.

"I died for her!" Buffy cried out through her tears.

"I stayed with her,...until her dying day," he cried out making all the veins in his neck rise swollen.

She brought her hand to her face, trembling from the hard blow. "Then why won't you stay with me?" she whispered looking up at him. "I once said to myself that you were a complicated man. But now I know how greatly I was mistaken. You've made a web out of your life. You're but a shell of the man I once knew, the man I knew was capable of love and sacrifice. The man I knew had more life in him than any other creature I've known. And here you stand behind your cause and your empty morals, behind your calling and your destiny. I fear that these one hundred years of solitude have destroyed the man I once cared for. The man I...died to save the world for. I suppose I died in vain," she said never leaving his eyes.

She stood up with her hand on her cheek and walked out of the room grabbing her sister's diaries form the table and hugging them to her chest.

Spike stood there panting and in complete and horrific shock. He was confused. He had not been confused in a long time, he could hardly even remember the feeling of being confused.

But he recognized it when it hit him and shame ran through him as he realized what he had done. He hung his head down in resignation when he heard the slamming of her door.

Spike counted to ten and decided best to go after her, after all they had to spend time together, he might as well be in her good graces.

_If you told me to cry for you, I could.  
If you told me to die for you, I would.  
Take a look at my face, there's no price I won't pay.  
To say these words to you._

--

Buffy was sitting on her large bed watching the servants place all the clothing in her bags. Spike had bought her enough clothes to last a lifetime. She should have seen it then. It was his only known way to apologize.

It was his way of sayin 'Sorry I can't stay with you, pet. I really don't care 'bout you anymore, so here is Macy's, have a nice life.'

She heard him open the door and refused to look at him. She still couldn't believe that she had let him hit her. She should have punched him back, but she knew her words did much more than her fist could ever do. And he deserved it good and true.

He looked at her, she was huddled in the bed ignoring him completely.

_Well there ain't no luck in these loaded dice  
But baby if you give me just one more try, _

He sighed.

"Dejenos!" (Leave us.) he said to his servants. Poala and Jermina scurried off to give them privacy.

Buffy saw them leave and stood from the bed and walked out onto the balcony.

She placed her hands on the railing and took in the perpetual nights air.

The stars still shone and told tales of eons ago. The view from the hacienda on the hill side reflected the view of the small town. It was breathtaking.

Houses were lit all around the country side and it looked like fireflies in the night. Hundreds of them scattered throughout the dark green hills. It was a cloudless night. Filled with stories to tell and adventures to take.

Somewhere out there were a couple in love, a mother played with her children, a father worked hard for the money, demons created destruction.

This was her world now, a world she did not know but still loved. There were still children to save from the constant night, werewolves still roamed on nights with the full moon, and mayhem and destruction stayed just beyond the horizon. But not here. Not in this peaceful hill with its valley, not in this cloudless nights, where lovers slept and mothers loved. This was the world she fought for and this man she hated at the moment was her only window to the life so buried in her veins.

She had wanted to much to be just a girl, a normal girl.

But her spirit said otherwise. Her calling ran in her blood, like a chanting that does not stop until fulfilled. As if she only lived truly when conquering the forces of evil. That with every kill there was one less creature of the night threatening the good of man kind.

But now, they were all creatures of the night, walking in a world she could only begin to imagine. A world were there was no longer black and white. A world were demon and human walked hand in hand. In love...

He watched her from the door frame. The wind was blowing and the chill of the march night was in her skin, making droplets of goose bumps stand at end.

Her golden hair flew in the light wind giving her a surreal appearance and for once since his life got confusing, he truly accepted her being alive.

This was the woman who unknowingly and unwontedly changed him.

_We can pack up our old dreams and our old lives,  
We'll find a place where the sun still shines_

Because of her he was able to care, to care so much it hurt. But love was pain. And pain had thought him well, guard your heart, don't shed a tear for a grain of rise, don't let people see the shadows in your eyes. He had buried his humanity so deep it hurt to think about bringing it back.

If he accepted his grief, it meant the weakness in him. And it was love what had made him weak once and he sure as hell was not going back there. This life had taken too much effort. Too many vendettas to play, too many people knew his name. They knew of the heartless killer who roamed the earth in search of evil.

William the bloody has been replaced and all traces of the brown haired, insignificant had vanished, taken by the night and her embraces.

All that remained was Spike, el pacificador.

"When you died...I felt my world cave." he started walking up to her and standing next to her, grasping the railing. "There was this...pain. A pain so deep and hurtful that it burn right through me. Every time I closed my eyes I saw your body, there, lying on the pile of bricks and debris. A martyr. A bloody hero. That day I stopped living. You had been everything to me. My purpose, my anointment, my love. but there you laid. Broken and beaten at the end. You might have killed Glory, but it was her who took you away.

For years I needed someone to blame, someone to torture, someone to kill. And all I found was me. I realized that up to that point your life ended because of me. At the end of the day, it had been me. Say it was I didn't run fast enough, say it was I didn't fight hard enough, say it was I didn't love enough, whatever it was it was me. Me and my inability to protect Dawn.

So I made myself a promise. I wanted to live. I wanted to torture myself for eternity knowing that it was because of me that you were in a cold grave and Dawn was alone. So I lived with hatred for myself. And with every pang of hurt, blame, and pain I felt alive. Knowing that because of me, the woman I loved could never have the life she so wanted."

He had failed to notice that she was looking at him now, tracks of tears were dirtying her beautiful face.

_And I will love you, baby - Always.  
And I'll be there forever and a day - Always.  
I'll be there till the stars don't shine,_

She reached out a tentative arm and touched his shoulder lightly.

He looked at her, his eyes filled with indescribable pain.

"It has been one hundred years since that night, yet the pain is still as raw. Yet here you are, making me as mad as usual and sympathizing with you as much. So I ask you one question. I am not here to tell you that I love you, or please forgive me, or any nancy-boy thing like that. What I am asking you is what you know the answer to. What lives inside every chosen one."

He looked at her long and hard.

"Do you want to be a Slayer once again? I am not telling you that this is your duty, that this is your calling. I am asking you what is your soul crying out to? Do you still want to dance?" he asked almost in a whisper.

Her gazed never left his as she finally gave in. This is who she was, this yearning was buried in her soul and there was no denying it or running away from it.

"I don't want to be a Slayer once again...I've never ceased being a Slayer. The slayer is me, it's who I am, not some additive to my soul, not some dark part of, but me as whole," she said understanding herself for the first time.

He sadly smiled and brought his right index finger to her forehead. "Then it shall be done." he whispered.

She felt the burning sensation curse through her body as a green glow emanated from his hand. It was not pain but enlightenment. Then memories flooded her mind, how to fight, how to run, how to kill, it all came back to her at once.

He withdrew his finger feeling the Slayer in her awaken and smiled at her.

"Welcome back, Slayer. Nice nap? What do you say we go do what you do best?" He asked walking out of the balcony.

"And what is that?" she asked confused.

"Kill some nasties."

_Till the heavens burst and the words don't rhyme.  
And I know when I die, you'll be on my mind.  
And I love you - Always. _


	6. El Pacificador

This Old Fool (100 Years of Solitude)

El Pacificador (100 Years of Solitude)

-Disclaimers: Title belong entirely to Gabriel Garcia, just borrowing it for the sake of the story. Buffy, Spike, Whistler and all the memories belong to Joss and his crew, all other characters are entirely mine. Lyrics by Limp Biskit, My Way.

--

_Special  
You think you're special  
You do, I can see it in your eyes_

She looked at herself in the mirror and was half pleased. The tight ivory leather pants went perfect with her ivory leather tank top and the beautiful knee-length ivory leather coat Spike had bought for her, what surprised her the most were the python boots that matched the rest of her wardrobe perfectly.

_OK, so he had the taste of a hyena when I knew him, but now……well just say WOW_. She thought as she saw a Matrix replica of herself.

Her long blonde hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail, she didn't know what kind of demons she had to fight in this futuristic world but she had to be ready for the worst.

She looked hot and she knew it. They should have had this type of government founding in "her" time.

"Slayer!"

She heard Spike call for her, she knew the vampire must be pacing at the end of the stairs. Something about this new Spike excited and yet bothered her.

He very much felt like the guy you knew in high school and later met in the twenty year reunion.

She was calm and collected, but still anxious and short-tempered. He was mature and knowledgeable, but still unsure and regretful.

Her mind drifted to their dancing and she felt her cheeks redden at the thought of his hard chest pressed intimately against hers.

He had been charming, had she not looked up to him and seen the distraction on his face, or maybe he was pretending for it to look like distraction just to throw her off.

He obviously didn't love her, not the way he did back then, and somehow that thought was disturbing.

She frowned, why did she get insecure-bot-building Spike to love her, yet couldn't get rich-professional-secure Spike to even show a hint of emotion.

Was she that dislikable?

She realized that she must have been a bitch to him all those years ago, but he still stuck through with her friends, sharing in their lives and loving them at the end.

That afternoon in the balcony she had build her hopes that he would give her a sign of what he felt so long ago, but instead he treated it like a history book and got straight to the point. It was all about her being the slayer, nothing more, nothing less.

_I can see it when you laugh at me  
Look down on me  
You walk around on me  
Just one more fight_

She walked down the hall and to the stairs, seeing him waiting at the end of the stairs, talking to Efrain.

He looked up and merely acknowledged her presence. Her Spike would have looked her over and shown his interest in her clothing.

This Spike had seen too many women and fucked too many whores.

She met them at the end of the stairs and listened while they talked back and forth to each other in Spanish and made a mental note that she must learn the language if she was going to live in Bogota.

--

_About your leadership  
And I will straight up  
Leave your shit  
'Cause I've had enough of this  
And now I'm pissed _

Spike finished giving instructions to his butler and was glad he had been talking to the man, the bulge in his pants had grown when he saw her at the top of the stairs, clad completely in ivory leather, looking very deadly and incredibly sexy.

He internally groaned at the thought of the next few weeks he had to spend with her.

She was standing behind him waiting for him to tell her what they had to do.

"So, what demon are we after tonight?" she asked as Spike received Rubio from Efrain.

Spike checked to make sure the shotgun was loaded and smiled, "No Demon."

"Vampire? Ghost? Spirit?…..Robot?" She asked trying to make some type of conversation with the black leather clad vampire.

He looked at her in a mock glare. "No robot." He said and for the first time in all the time that she had been alive, she smiled at his fake hostility.

"So then, Mr. Big and Bad, what 'nasty' are we going after tonight?" she asked.

He looked at his watch to make sure they were running on schedule.

"Have some business I've got to take care of before we leave," he said and started walking towards the door that led to the basement.

She unconsciously followed him, as he opened the door and motioned for her to enter.

"What's here?" she asked peering in the well lit room.

"Weapons." He stated and she eagerly went in.

The room before her astounded her as she saw a state-of-the-art training room, complete with a full-scale trampoline, a boxing ring, kung fu tools, swords of all types hanged on the wall, and there was a mixture of Medieval looking irons and a bit more futuristic ones.

"Where's the stakes?"

"No stakes, pet." He said smiling and she stared after him. She had never seen him smile like that. It was a general amused smile, like he was enjoying her asking 'stupid' questions.

"And exactly how I am going to kill vampires?" she said looking as he walked to one wall that was bare of anything else.

She watched as he pressed something on the wall and the entire wall flipped over revealing an entire arsenal of all types of handguns, shotguns, tracking devices, rifles, grenades, and even an identifiable bazooka.

Buffy stared in wonder at the wall.

"With this." Spike said holding up a nice piece about half of Buffy's size.

_Yeah  
This time I'm 'a let it all come out  
This time I'm 'a stand up and shout  
I'm 'a do things my way  
It's my way  
My way, or the highway _

She shook herself from the trance and walked over to him. "Have I missed something, are we going into battle?" she asked looking over the weapons that must weigh a good twenty pounds.

He smirked at her. "Lesson the first. No matter how small the matter seems to be, you have to go prepared as if you were fightin' the armies of Lucifer 'imself."

She looked over the weapon. "Can I tell you a secret?"

He looked at her in surprise but diligently nodded.

She leaned in on him and he stood stock-still. "Vampires don't die from bullets. They prefer wood, as do I. So point me to the nearest Scotty's while I break some panels."

He slightly tilted his head, amused by her banter, he had really missed her quick-perky mouth…..that was currently painted light pink.

"And I'll tell you a lil' secret." He replied, and she braced herself for his sarcasm. He did the same thing she did and leaned in on her. "It's humans we're after."

Her eyes grew as wide as saucers. "What?" she asked not believing what he was saying.

"We're going after Chino, the head of 'el cartel'" He stated and dropped an 35 mm in her hand.

"Who is Chino? What is 'el cart?" she asked looking at the hand gun.

"El Cartel." He corrected her looking for her bullets.

"Whatever."

"El Cartel is the Spanish Mafia, largest Mafia in the world." He said taking back her weapon and loading it.

"The Mafia? Why the hell are you involved with the Mafia?" she asked confused.

_Just one more fight  
About a lot of things  
And I will give up everything  
To be on my own again  
Free again _

"Well I am thinking they had something to do with Tatiana's murder so I called a meeting with Chino."

"Ok, hold it a minute. Why would the Mafia care what the slayer does, and why the hell are we taking guns to a meeting? Don't they frisk us?….And why aren't we out killing demons in the cemetery." She asked now completely confused.

He stood facing her and raised his hand in an attempt to count. "One: the slayer threatens everything that is anti-government, therefore it includes the Mafia. Two: all meetings end in a shoot out, therefore we go prepared. Three: yes they'll frisk us and when they find the weapons they'll either know we're serious or seriously stupid. Four: there are no cemeteries, bodies are cremated. So your usual patrolling will be replaced with car chases and all type of poofy adventures."

"Car chases? And,…and shoot outs? I am not bullet proof, you know? And I in no way plan to go against the Mafia." She said stubbornly placing her hand on her hip.

He smiled down at her. "Fine. Stay 'ere and knit sweaters, while I go out 'here and do your job."

She glared at him for a while and he answered her by glaring right back at her.

"Fine!" she said finally taking the loaded gun from him.

"Fine!" he repeated and grabbed two long knifes, sticking them in his boots and handing her one.

"But if a die it's all your fault." She said walking away.

He stared after her watching her go out the door. "Always is." he whispered.

--

Marcus: Where the cup holders?

Mike: I ain't got none.

Marcus: What do you mean you don't have no cup holders? 80,000 dollars for this car and you don't got any cup holders.

Mike: It is 105,000 and this happens to be one the fastest production cars ever made its a limited edition.

Marcus: Damn right its limited, no cup holders, no back seat, it's just a shiny dick with two chairs in it, I guess the balls just drag the fuck along.

_BAD BOYS_

--

_Yeah  
This time I'm 'a let it all come out  
This time I'm 'a stand up and shout  
I'm 'a do things my way  
It's my way  
My way, or the highway _

"So what type of car is this exactly?" She asked him as they got into his Valken.

"Valken, 2065, a classic, special modifications for my type of work," he said backing up from the four-car garage.

"A classic with modifications?" she asked skeptically. "I thought the DeSoto with blacked out windows was your idea of a classics with modifications."

He smirked at her.

"Glad that you've got your dashing sense of humor back." He said dryly.

"All I am saying is that is better than that black taxi you used to drive."

"Hey! That was my baby, pet. You mess with everything but that black beauty." He said taking a corner.

"Whatever, Fabio." She replied enjoying their usual banter.

"Fabio? Are you seriously stoned?" he asked arching his brow.

"Yeah, with the hair thing you have going." She said pointing to his ponytail.

His hand instantly went up to his hair.

"What's wrong with this look?" he asked confused.

"Oh nothing…..but then again, you have no reflection." She said smiling sweetly.

She smiled at him, it took him a moment to register that. She was having a conversation with him that didn't include business or history. He couldn't help but smile back.

"Yeah, I guess I don't," he said looking at her one last time and then keeping his eyes on the road.

She was taken off guard with his reaction, she had expected, almost wanted an argument. Instead he had smiled and agreed with her.

A smile.

She got a funny feeling in her stomach when he did that and found that she much preferred the non-argument between them.

They drove in silence for a while, she looked out the window to see that the streets were pretty much deserted, as if the people knew that at this time it was business.

"So, Spike. Are you going to tell me how you came about with your fortune?" she asked trying to make conversation.

She saw him smile from the corner of her eye.

"Believe it or not, the council had billions. So they transferred it to me, since I am the standing institution." He said bringing the car to a halt in front of a little restaurant that was called "Paeya".

"Billions?" she asked in disbelief.

"Yep." He answered turning off the engine. "We're here."

Buffy looked out her window, it looked like a family owned restaurant, but the windows were darkened so the movements inside were not seen.

"This is so Godfather," she commented.

_Someday you'll see things my way  
Cause you never know  
Where, you never know  
Where you're gonna go _

"They don't make them like they used to," he said getting off. She proceeded as two large, very large men, came out to greet them.

Spike went in front of her and transformed himself to all business. Buffy noted and came to the conclusion that whoever messed with this creature was a dead man-or demon.

"Vengo a ver a Chino." (I come to see Chino) Spike said to the men.

"Eres el Pacificador?" (Are you the Pacifier?) the larger man asked him.

Spike simply nodded.

The other man looked beyond Spike at Buffy, eyeing her up and down with an appreciative glint in his eyes.

"Y la Puta?" (And the Bitch?) he asked Spike.

Spike chuckled and then hardened and looked straight into the man's eyes.

"La Matadora." (The Slayer) he said low and calm.

The man stiffened and obviously regretted his comment.

"Pasen." (Come in) they said without a second thought.

--

The restaurant was a small little thing that smelled wonderful Buffy noted and she now wished that this 'meeting' included dinner.

The entire establishment was empty, except for the middle of the room were an old man sat having his dinner. Seven guards stood behind him eyeing the couple angrily.

The old man didn't even look up to acknowledge the presence of the two blondes. His eyes were small and oriental looking which hence given his street name, Chino.

The whole situation seemed surreal to Buffy who felt like she was in a Hollywood film. Going into a Mafia establishment to meet the head of the actual organization, with only a 35 mm in her pocked and a knife in her boot, with a creature she loathed, and to top it off they were going to pick a fight.

It's been worst. She told herself.

"Chino." Spike greeted as they stood in front of the eating man.

The older man finally looked up and nodded.

"Have a seat, _gringo_." He said motioning to the single chair in front of him.

He eyed Buffy and nodded. "Slayer." He greeted.

Buffy was taken back with his ability to know that she was a slayer and then noticed that this man was not human but a half demon.

"She's a fuckable little thing, not like the last one." He said calmly wiping his mouth with a cotton napkin.

Buffy reddened and fumed at the dirty old…thing.

"You don't want to mess with this one." Spike said taking out a cigarette and lighting it.

"Do I?" he asked smiling. "But that's not why we're here for, pana."(mate) He said getting straight to business.

He snapped his fingers and four very voluptuous beautiful women came out of a door.

One of them took his plate, the other his napkin, the other his drink and the other, younger one took the seat next to him.

The girl looked over at Spike and smiled.

Buffy noticed and for some reason really didn't like the girl at the moment.

"So talk business." Spike said giving the brown eyed girl one last look and smiling at her.

Chino leaned back in his chair and smiled at Spike. It was a fake smile but the smile that causes you to shiver. "You came here tonight to kill me, amigo. But I am here to tell you that I had nothing to do with Tatiana's murder. Not my turf. "

Spike imitated him and also leaned back. "Did you, now ?"

_Just one more fight  
And I'll be history  
Yes I will straight up  
Leave your shit  
And you'll be the one who's left  
Missing me _

Chino continued with his fake smile. "You killed Jose Buendia, two nights ago, and that is simply unacceptable. I can't have my men hiding in dark corners 'cause you feel they're terrorizing your block," he said taking a sip of his red wine.

"Unacceptable?" Spike laughed. "You know what I did to the last man who said that to me?"

There was silence in the room and the atmosphere was so thick it could be cut through with a knife.

Chino didn't answer but the smile in his face disappeared as he stared at Spike icily.

Spike leaned forward and hissed at Chino. "I fucked his wife until she had to be buried in a y-shaped coffin."

Chino's face got a sick shade of red, and the veins in his neck protruded into a frightening look.

Buffy swallowed nervously, it was a count to five when Chino's men pulled out their guns and before Buffy knew what hit her Spike grabbed her by the waist and threw her on the ground covering her body with his. Then the gun shots came.

Buffy screamed as chaos broke out. Spike got up and dragged her behind a table, flipped it over and both of them hid behind the metal wall.

Spike pulled out his shotgun and started shooting at the other men over the table. Every time he fired Buffy covered her ears and screamed.

_Yeah  
This time I'm 'a let it all come out  
This time I'm 'a stand up and shout_

"A little help would be nice," he screamed at her above the noise.

"I am not killing anyone," she protested still screaming for dear life.

"It's killed or get killed," he said after firing a shot and ducking.

"What's the plan?" she asked taking out her gun and holding it to her chest like she had seen cops do it.

"Get in 'ere, kill Chino, get out," he said reloading.

"That's your plan?" she screamed in disbelief.

"It's a plan ain't it?" he asked and firing a shot.

Buffy lifted her head to look at the scene but a bullet was intended for her head and would have blown it away if Spike hadn't pushed her head back down.

"Get Down!!" he screamed at her, her face landed right were his crotch was at. Her eyes bugged out and looked back up at him and rose.

"No!" she answered him.

"Why the bloody hell not?" he asked shooting his gun.

"You'll take advantage of me!!" she screamed undignified.

He crouched down next to her until her face was inches away from his. Out of no where he reached out with his empty hand and crushed his mouth against hers.

Buffy froze as she realized what he was doing.

Before she could protest he pulled back and looked at her. "Now I've taken advantage of you."

He said and went back to his 'gunfight'.

_I'm 'a do things my way  
It's my way  
My way, or the highway _

Buffy stared at him in complete wonder.

He had kissed her!

Before she could think of the complications he grabbed her gun and threw her Rubio and started emptying the barrel on the other men.

When he emptied it, he grabbed her in a hug and threw both himself and her out the restaurant window.

She screamed as she felt the glass break behind him, and they landed on the thump in the floor, her on top of Spike.

"Up!!" he screamed. She scurried off him as the two men in the entrance started to pull out their guns. Before they could Buffy leashed out and kicked one in the gut and punched the other, knocking him clear to the floor.

"Bitch my ass." She hissed and the two men hollowed in pain from the slayer strength.

Spike came behind her and practically pushed her in the car.

The moment she was in the car about five men came out from the restaurant shooting their guns at them.

"Bloody Hell!" Spike screamed as a bullet hit his back.

He jumped in the car in seconds it was on and sped off.

_Someday you'll see things my way_  
--

Chino stared after the black car.

"Go get them." He hissed at his men.

The men scurried off and ran to the back of the restaurant, all jumping on the on the red Hondas CRX that were lined up.

Seven full speed motorcycles raced after the black car into the night.

--

_Cause you never know  
Where, you never know  
Where you're gonna go _

"I've been alive for less than 36 hours and I've been hit, shot at, thrown through windows, mentally raped, and insulted, not to mention taken advantage of." Buffy hissed to the man next to her. "Tell me, is this your idea of a good time?"

Spike took a sharp corner still racing in the road.

"Why, Slayer? Having fun?" he asked.

"Why the hell are you speeding for?" she cried as they almost hit a man walking on the road.

"Load the gun." He said shoving the shot gun at her. "Bullets are in the glove compartment."

Her shaking hand opened the glove compartment and took out the box full of metal, she rapidly loaded the gun the best way she knew how.

"Why…."

"Behind us." He said and she looked at the side door mirror to witness the seven bikes speeding after them.

"Oh God." She whispered.

"Take the wheel." He said grabbing the loaded gun from her.

"What!!" she screamed in horror.

"Take the fucking wheel." He cried as he pulled down his window.

She reacted by placing her inexperienced hands on the hard leather as he took half his torso and pulled it out the window.

She was horrified, she didn't know how to drive.

She heard him firing his gun at the bikes and jumped at the sound accidentally placing her hand on a green button by the gear stick.

"Opps!" she said.

The car instantly felt like it dropped something.

Spike saw as the three grenades were thrown from the back lights of his car and grinned at the men.

The grenades exploded and took out two of the bikes, leaving them with five.

"What did I do?" she asked horrified.

He got inside the car and took the wheel form her. Shoving the weapon to her arms.

He just smiled. "Watch this." He said as he pulled a mini lever at the side of his door.

"Watch what??" she cried but then the car raced forward gaining tremendous speed.

"Nitro." He said as the speed went from 95 mph to 120 mph.

"You're going over the speed limit!!" she cried as they took a sharp turn.

"We are the law."

"Then why the hell are we running." She asked loading her own 35 mm.

"We're not running , we're just being chased." He said smirking.

She groaned and pulled down her own window.

"What the hell are you doing?" he cried.

"Slaying." She answered as she fired her weapon to the bikers, hitting the wheel of one and sending it flying through the air. "Four to go."

Spike reached out and grabbed her ass sending her inside the car in shock at his gesture.

"Stay in," he hissed as he took a couple of turns that ended in a straight rocky road out towards the country.

The bikes started approaching and the bullets started hitting the car.

"Bloody hell!" Spike cried as the bullets damaged his car.

"Faster, we must go faster." She said looking behind her at the gaining bikes.

"I would go faster if I had a jeep, but we have a bloody race car, hardly appropriate for a day out in the country," he said sarcastically.

Then the bikes cornered them on all fours as the bikes were better for driving in the grass.

He looked ahead and groaned, he knew what he had to do.

He put the car in automatic and pressed a button making the roof of the car retrieve, making it into a convertible.

"What the hell are you doing?" she cried as the men in the bikes started pulling out their guns.

"Get on my lap!" he screamed.

_Cause you never know  
Where, you never know  
Where you're gonna go _

She looked at him like he lost his mind.

"What!!"

"Get on my bleedin' lap!" he hissed.

Without thinking she jumped over and on top of him, he snaked his arms around and pressed the red button by the wheel.

"Hold on to yer knickers!" He screamed.

She wrapped her legs tight around his waist and looked at him in horror as the car approached a very large cliff.

That very second the entire driver's seat pulled out of the car in jet speed into the air.

She screamed to the top of her lungs as they flew off the car the moment it jumped off the cliff along with the other bikers who followed it.

She tightened her arms around Spike as they grabbed on to each other for dear life.

The seat started descending at full speed. She felt like it was the end, as if any moment they were going to hit rock bottom.

Spike knew the moment he had to pull the shut and did.

She screamed again when he pulled the opening parachute, balancing their speed as they eased down to the sea.

_It's my way  
My way, or the highway _

--

The hot water felt incredible against her, bubbling in essence through her golden skin. She just stood underneath the water spray made out of pure gold. The cold marble under her feet was slippery yet reassuring. She reached down and turned the water off, and stepping out in to the luxurious bathroom.

Her thick soft bathrobe lay waiting for her and she ached for its warmth. After swimming for almost half an hour, she was not only exhausted but almost is frozen in the lake water that Spike had plunged his car into.

She had literally crawled to shore, and Spike even with a bullet in his ass was still her strength.

She had laughed hysterically when he told her were exactly where the bullet had hit him, but he silenced her by reminding her that she had to retrieve it.

That made her lose her balance and sent her body in shivers.

Spike' s ass, ass of Spike. Much more complicated than lips.

She was dreading the moment, and didn't understood why they couldn't go to the hospital, he reminded her that they were leaving the next day, the hospital would like him to stay overnight.

She didn't complain. A part of her wanted it. A part of her dreaded it.

After she finished combing through her wet hair she walked silently to his room were she knew he would be waiting.

She stood before the door and gulped.

_Spike's Ass.Oh God!_ She dreaded as she silently entered the room.

She turned the corner of the humungous room until she came to his bed.

She froze in her position willing her body not to turn and run.

He was lying naked on his stomach, with only a thin white sheet covering half his naked body. His head was resting on the side with his eyes closed, his arms propping his sleeping head.

A tray of utensils lay beside him by his chest, the things she needed to retrieve the object.

She had taken out bullets before, but this was in _his_ butt. And she was alone with _him._

This could very well complicate things.

"Usually take 'em out m'self but I think I've never got shot there 'fore," he said opening his eyes and looking at her.

But she was too busy looking over every curve of his 'oh so perfect body'. He was lean and tremendously well muscled.

She came to the conclusion that his back was the most amazing thing she'd ever seen and for a moment she caught herself wanting to roam his planes all day.

"Slayer? This is not the time to be checking me out, I've got a friggin bullet in my arse." he snorted.

She visibly paled. She needed to stop these uncomfortable encounters or they were going to lead her to a path of serious temptation.

"Perhaps you should avoid getting shot! Try killing demons, they never aim for your ass," she quickly retorted.

"Just get on with it, will ya?" he asked closing his eyes once again.

She took a deep breath and sat in the corner of the bed with his ass staring and mocking her underneath the white sheet.

"Ok, so how to I do this?" she asked.

He gently lifted his head to look at the tray. "First numb the area," he instructed pointing to the sharp long needle on the tray.

She gulped. She hated needles.

"Can't we just put ice on it or something?" She asked hopefully.

He glared at her. "Have you ever had a bullet pulled form you?"

Her eyes went wide. "No."

"It hurts like a mother, even with the shot it still hurts. So I need somethin', not gonna get drunk for a bullet," he stated.

"Right, ok, I can do this," she said as she slowly took the large needle in her hand and then looked down at his ass.

_Never in a million years did I think I'll be giving Spike a shot on the ass._ She thought as she slowly reached out and pulled the sheet back.

"Now inject directly were the bullet entered," he said s through clenched teeth laying his head back down.

She knew this had got to hurt, immediately thank her lucky stars that it wasn't her.

She took a second to study his ass. It was nice. Very nice. More like perfect. Not too big, but firm and tight. rounded and perky.

The bullet entrance was covered with a thin gauze that showed sipping blood though it on his left butt cheek.

"Wipe the area first," he said quietly.

She nodded and placed down the needle, ripping an alcohol pad and opening it.

She gently pulled back the blood-soaked gauze to reveal the actual wound.

It was small but deep and she didn't know how far she'll have to dig before extracting it out.

"This might sting," she whispered as she gently wiped the area clean of the blood.

He winced as the alcohol came in contact with his broken skin but said no more. After it was clean she lifted the needle once again and tried to remember how it was that nurses gave shots.

"OK, sorry," she whispered as she uncapped the needle and held her breath.

Without warning she poked him right were the hole was at, penetrating his already bloody skin and draining the contents inside him.

Spike jumped and hissed when she poked him. The part he most hated about the whole thing was the needle part. Those things hurt, but by far the poking in the ass hurt the most.

"Sorry." she whispered again.

He didn't say anything. Not only was he exhausted but he was concentrating on how gentle her hands were being and how concerned she was about hurting him any further.

She pulled the needle out and wiped the blood once again with another pad.

"Ok, now check to make sure the area is numb," he said opening his eyes again.

She nodded and gently tapped his rear. _OK, now I am spanking Spike's ass_. She thought.

"Feel this?" she asked looking at his face as she put pressure on the bullet hole.

"It eases the pain, but it doesn't go 'way." he replied closing his eyes again. "Now take the scalpel and make a cross incision on the hole so you can pull the bullet out.

She gulped back her nausea and nodded.

Lifting the sharp looking scalpel she brought it down to his skin and gently sliced him in a cross shaped laceration.

He tried to remain as still as possible he didn't want his ass to look like a quilted pattern.

She was trembling, this was not in the job description, she so didn't want to become intimate with Spike's ass at this time or ever.

"Done." she breathed out in relief.

"Ok now is the hard part. Take the long tweezers and clamp down on one of the skin folds, with the shorter twisted tweezers search and pull the bullet out," he said with his head still resting and his eyes closed.

"Clamp?!" she asked in horror.

"Yes, where's your bloody spine, slayer, you're tougher than this! I am the splittin' open 'ere." he hissed.

His ass was hurting like a bitch and all he wanted to was to sleep it off.

"Ok, clamp, right. I'll clamp and...dig." She said taking both tweezers in hand and braced herself, she was seeing way more of Spike than what she ever wanted to.

Between Buffy almost fainting and Spike squirming in pain she managed to retrieve the almost half inch bullet.

He had loudly groaned in the last pull and fell asleep with exhaustion.

Buffy studied his sleeping form. She had never seen him sleeping and he looked peaceful, but still the lines of worry were still in his face, he looked a bit aged. She mentally smacked herself for thinking of an aged vampire, but somehow he had.

She patched him back up and cleaned his wound carefully not to wake him from peaceful sleep.

With care she pulled the sheet over him and left him to sleep. Tomorrow was an even longer day.

--

"Sarah? I'm just not used to having whether I stay or whether I go matta to anybody. I'm not saying it should matta to you. I'm just saying, well, does it? Matta?"

_NEWSIES_


	7. The World Below

The World Below (100 Years of Solitude)

The World Below (100 Years of Solitude)

-Disclaimers: Title belongs entirely to Gabriel Garcia Marquez--just borrowing it for the sake of the story. Buffy, Spike, Whistler and all the memories belong to Joss and his crew. All other characters are entirely mine. Lyrics by Staind, It's Been a While.

--

"You'd think at a certain point, all these a-typical some-things would amount to a typical something, but a typical what?"

from Awakenings

--

_And it's been a while  
Since I could  
Hold my head up high  
And it's been a while  
Since I first saw you_

She stretched out lazily in her thick warm bed as the rare sunlight filtered into her room, warming her bronzed toned body.

The little white nightgown felt silky around her slim figure as she slowly sat up, ready to face another day.

Memories of her friends and family came instantly to her mind, and a small pang of hurt and guilt hit her chest unexpectedly. She lay back down and curled herself into a tight knit ball, and suddenly the rays of the rare sun didn't seem so warm anymore.

There was a small knock on her door and without her having a chance to tell whoever it was to go away, Paola stormed in and completely opened the blinds, singing Spanish tunes as she went about her merry chores.

Buffy groaned as she tried to bury herself in her sheets, trying to block out the sunlight and the singing that got louder the more she tried to ignore it.

"Wake up, child. Master William is always on time," the woman said, bringing a tray of food into her room.

Buffy felt nauseous.

"Eat, you're a thin little thing. How do you expect to fight evil with that frailty?" the woman said, taking the liberty to sit next to her.

For some reason or another she reminded Buffy of her mother. She was caring and motherly in that way.

"How do you know what I do?" Buffy asked, bringing a piece of toast to her mouth.

The woman smiled at her with kind black eyes. "All of Master William's girls are Slayers. It's what he does."

Buffy's toast went stale in her mouth as she drank in the words this woman was saying. "I see." she whispered.

But the woman patted her shoulder reassuringly. "But I can tell he likes you."

Buffy looked at the woman who was being so kind with her and managed to smile.

"He's different." Buffy said, almost pouting.

_And it's been a while  
Since I could stand  
On my own two feet again  
And it's been a while  
Since I could call you_

Paola smiled. "You mean he used to love Buffy Summers?"

Buffy's eyes widened at her response and stared at the woman in confusion. "How...?"

"It's a legend. You died for the good of humanity, and a vampire without a soul loved the slayer so much he changed his ways and became the protector of good and changed the world as we knew it. The tale of you two was thought to be a myth for years but when Master William was called to be el pacificador it made world news. My grandma told me of the story of you two when I was little and I was fascinated by it. It was almost a fairytale, all the little girls wanted a vampire like that." she said smiling at the old memories. Meanwhile, Buffy choked on her toast.

"What?" she cried after she swallowed the dry piece of bread.

"Of course, you can't know. But I have the film at home..."

"The film, there's a movie about us?" Buffy cried in horror.

"Various actually." the woman said, confused.

Buffy felt dizzy and feverish.

"My favorite was 'One Good Day.' Oh, it was so romantic, and he was so charming. But then you died in his arms and I cried like a baby," the woman said, oblivious that Buffy was about to collapse from shock.

"You mean to tell me, that the world knows of my life?" Buffy managed after a few gasps of air.

The woman smiled kindly. "Wait until they hear that you're back. Hollywood will be buzzing with the news. They might even ask you and Master William to play the part!" the woman cried excitedly.

Buffy stood up abruptly knocking the tray of food to the floor as she stared at the woman in shock and denial.

"Paola."

Buffy spun around to see an already dressed Spike in the door frame.

"Oh sorry, Senor." Paola said, picking up the tray and quickly leaving the room.

Buffy was still reeling in shock.

"Slayer," he started. "I am sorry you had to find out that way," he said, walking towards her and looking directly at her with those intense eyes of his.

_And everything  
I can't remember  
As fed up  
As it all may seem_

Buffy looked embarrassed at the floor. Why make films about her and Spike? Why not about her and Angel--god knows they went through a lot.

"We're a fairytale." she said bitterly.

"It all started back in 2005, when you were recognized by Sunnydale's new major for you valiant acts, etc.., then this woman, a writer named Brenda Cross, poked around town in the late 2010's. She found me in one of my bad moods, while I was drunk and not thinking straight. I basically told her your story. She felt sorry for me, I suppose, and decided to make it into a adventure-romance, so she wrote "The Chosen One." The rumor that it was a true story made the book a huge success, made her millions. For about twenty years it was just a legend, not really real, not really false. But in 2036 a man named Ralph Vines, a Hollywood screen writer, decided to convert the book into a film." Spike paused and took out a cigarette, lighting it before he continued.

"The movie 'The Chosen One' was the best. It was factual to the T. Went from the moment you were chosen to the moment Dawn died. It became a classic, won about four Oscars. I was played by this American named James Marsters--not a bad imitation I must say, and you were played by Sarah Prinze. Both won Oscars for best acting. It was great. But again all the time, this was nothing factual. It was a legend, a fairy tale. More films came out after that. Even Disney put their two cents, making "Buffy," and it was all good except you lived and I was turned human and we lived happily ever after." he stopped and sighed.

"But when I came out in public as 'the council' the entire thing came apart. I was hiding from TV crews for years. I managed to get them off my back by going to 20/20. When the story came out,... well, let's just say people were fascinated by the entire story. More films came out, more books, even a T.V. series. But by now all that generation has grandchildren, and we are a mere old cassette in the family room. So don't worry." he tried to reassure her.

"But Angel..."

"You went through more with Angel." he finished for her as tears were already running down her cheeks.

She simply nodded.

"I didn't tell you about Angel, did I?" he asked, looking out the window.

"I know he's dead. But Dawn doesn't really talk about him." Buffy answered cleaning her tears with her bed sheet.

"Tell you what, pet. Get dressed, and I'll tell you the whole story on our way to Columbia." he said, clapping his hands together.

He caught Buffy looking at him amused.

"What?" he asked, self-conscious.

She gave him a smile despite the whole situation. "Your hair." she said almost grinning.

His hand went to his freshly trimmed hair.

"You cut it." she stated.

"Yeah, well, you know, didn't fancy being called Fabio." he said embarrassed at being caught.

"Better," she said, standing up.

_The consequences  
That I render  
I stretched myself  
Beyond my means_

In the morning light her white nightgown was almost transparent and she grew conscious of her situation.

Spike understood and admitted that the translucent material was getting the best of his attention.

"I'll meet you downstairs then," he said and walked to the door.

Buffy watched him leave with her arms draped across her body but somehow looking forward to another day.

Spike paused and looked back at her.

"Thank You," he said.

She was taken back by his statement. "For what," she asked confused.

He looked down embarrassed.

"For last night," he stated.

Buffy instantly blushed. "How's your,...wound," she managed to get out.

He nodded lightly. "Healed," he replied.

"Then you're welcome," she whispered.

He had no idea what to do. Here she stood, a woman he had loved so long ago and for some reason her mere presence brought back the same stuttering vampire he had buried so long ago.

He nodded and closed the door behind him in an effort to shut out William, in an effort to conceal the reality of her presence, in an effort to simply forget who he was and simply remember what he had become. With the door shut it was better. No matter what she was still a Slayer and he was still a vampire. No matter how glorified he had become, no matter how lonely she must be, no matter how much she needed him, he would only be her friend and nothing more.

_And it's been a while  
Since I could say  
That I wasn't addicted  
And it's been a while  
Since I can say  
I love myself as well  
And it's been a while  
Since I've gone  
And fed things up  
Just like I always do  
And it's been a while  
But all that shit  
Seems to disappear  
When I'm with you_

--

The helicopter landed on his backyard two hours later and both Slayer and Vampire quickly loaded it with all their luggage. It was a warm morning, Buffy noted, the light rays of the sun reflected off Spike's bleach blonde hair, giving him an angelic glow.

She smiled as she looked at the glimmering head, and he was taken back when he found the petite girl looking at him with a smile she had only reserved for those she cared for.

Suddenly she made him nervous again.

Buffy reacted to his confused stare and looked straight ahead, completely embarrassed at being caught.

Spike smiled at her reaction. This would be an interesting trip, he thought happily to himself.

_And everything  
I can't remember  
As fed up  
As it all may seem_

Traveling over Barcelona, Buffy watched with wondrous eyes the landscape and the architecture. This was definitely not Sunnydale. It was ancient and with so much history and rich culture it overwhelmed her.

She saw a strange looking building that caught her attention right off the bat. The facade was built of massive stone blocks, although it looked like concrete. The traits reflected a geomorphic vision. More like waves of the sea and the cliffs and mountains that rise above it, with seaweed like chunks of wrought iron that formed the balustrades.

"What is it?" she asked the blonde next to her as she pointed her finger to the building.

He smiled at her choice of architecture.

Leaning forward, to tell her close to her ear, he said, "Casa Mila, build in 1905 by the architect Gandhi."

Buffy shuddered at the closeness of his lips to her skin, the aroma of his cologne surrounding him.

"It's beautiful." she said turning and looking at him.

Their eyes met for a few seconds and Buffy could have sworn she saw a shadow of the Spike she knew so long ago.

_The consequences  
That I render  
Gone and fed  
Things up again_

The moment made her smile, and for her smile he gave her one of his own.

Which just melted hers as she stared at him dumbfounded.

"What?" he asked confused. He could have sworn he was being nice.

It took her a moment to reply but it came through. "I've never seen you smile like that."

He was taken back at her reaction but before he could answer the helicopter started descending to the airport.

--

Man hath a weary pilgrimage  
As through the world he wends,  
On every stage from youth to age,  
Still discontent attends;  
With heaviness he cast his eye  
Upon the road before,  
And still remembers with a sigh  
The days that are no more.

Southley, Remembrance

--

"Spike! There you are, pana!!" the tall thin Puerto Rican screamed as Buffy and Spike got off the helicopter.

He saw Buffy and whistled loudly, "Mami, you be lookin' good." he said giving her a smile.

Buffy looked at the skinny man before her and was completely appalled. He looked dirty and conniving.

"Diego." Spike greeted the man coldly.

"Hey! It's the man himself!" he nearly shouted. "How' ya doin', brother?" he said and extended himself by grabbing Spike's hand and pulling him into a reluctant embrace.

"Long time no see, amigo." Diego continued, completely ignoring the look of death Spike was giving him. "What's up with that, hombre? Forget all tu gente?" (Your People) he said laughing.

Buffy noted that he laughed like a hyena. She very much wanted to smack this man, if Spike didn't do it first.

"Diego, we are on a schedule." Spike said as he started walking towards his private jet. Buffy stayed close to him trying to avoid the wondering eyes of their pilot.

"Ah, schedule, ni schedule. You need to relax! Look at me, no worries, five kids and a fat wife, and do I look stressed? No, Senor, happy as can be. You know what I mean, jefe?" he said laughing and patting Spike on the back.

"Diego." Spike said in a warning tone.

The man apparently got the message and decided to address Buffy. "So who are you, nena?" he asked smirking at her.

Spike stood back to watch. This ought to be fun, he thought.

_Why must I feel this way?  
Just make this go away  
Just one more peaceful day_

"Someone to watch your mouth around." she said coldly as she crossed her arms across her chest.

Diego laughed. "I like you, baby." he said smiling at her in a not-so-sexy smile.

She gave him a fake smile. "That's your misfortune."

"Whoa, what's wrong, mami. Not getting any?" he leered getting closer to her.

Out of no where a hard fist knocked him down on the floor. Diego sat on his ass stunned at the little girl before him who had managed to knock him flat on the ground.

"I warned you." Spike told the man as he crushed his cigarette under his black boot and followed Buffy, who was marching to the plane.

The man rubbed his jaw as he watched the small woman trot to the plane not bothering to look back at the fallen man. "A Slayer."

Then he smiled.

--

_And it's been a while  
Since I could  
Look at myself straight  
And it's been a while  
Since I said "I'm sorry"_

"Where do you find these people?" Buffy asked as she took a seat on the ample leather sofa inside the plane. Spike put down his carry-on bag and took a seat on the couch opposite of her.

"Oh, you know. Lying around." he said smirking.

She giggled. "Well he's back where you found him."

Spike chuckled. This girl was incredible. He had met women with character but they were all intimidated by him, not Buffy. There had been things about her that he had forgotten, or forced himself to forget.

Like the way she cocked her head when not convinced and the way she bent her head just an inch to the floor and pouted unconsciously when she felt unsure.

Then there was the way she smiled. This was the first thing to go since the last time he saw her smiling was on her 20th birthday through the living room window of her house. He had not been invited to her party.

The memory instantly brought a dark pain to his heart as he remembered what a stupid fool he had been then. Lurking around her trying just to get a glimpse of her. It was pathetic.

"Do you trust him?" she asked him as she relaxed and studied him.

The second they had been in the plane he had hardened. Lost in thought of times past, she thought.

"I only trust two people. One of them is me and the other you'll meet." He said, avoiding her eyes and looking for something in the mini-refrigerator.

"You don't trust me." she asked with a visibly hurt expression in her eyes.

_And it's been a while  
Since I've seen the way  
The candles light your face  
And it's been a while  
But I can still remember  
Just the way you taste _

But he avoided her eyes and sighed. "No offense, Slayer, but in my experience, trusting women ends up in disaster."

"Disaster? Like death and things like that." she asked getting annoyed with his attitude.

"Don't flatter yourself. What I meant is that they end falling in love with you. Then it interferes with the whole trust thing." He said opening a new bottle of bourbon. At the moment he felt he really needed it.

Buffy snorted at his answer. "Don't flatter myself? What the hell are you talking about?"

He sighed. "Am talking 'bout Dawn. The last woman I trusted was her and look what happened. I broke 'er heart." he said still avoiding her eyes.

Buffy now understood. This was not about women. This was about love.

"Did you love her?" she asked quietly studying his expression.

Both were quiet as he poured himself the dark liqueur.

Then he drank a mouthful.

"Yes." he said quietly.

Buffy swallowed. For some unexpected reason this information sank into her stomach and poisoned her inside and out. This was certainly not what she expected. Not from her sister, not from...her Spike.

"Why didn't you tell her?" she asked and waited but he said nothing. "Why didn't you?" she repeated.

"Because..." he started strong. "there was only one thing that I loved more than Dawn."

She braced herself. "What was that?" she almost whispered.

For the first time since they boarded the plane he met her eyes. "Your memory." he said with his intense gaze that took her breath away.

"Oh." was all she could answer.

"Yeah, Oh." Spike replied sarcastically.

Buffy glared at him. "It's not my fault."

"What's not your fault, pet." He asked corking the bottle and placing it in its compartments.

"That you decided to fall in love with me at such a crucial time."

"Crucial time? Tell me, slayer, what time in your life hasn't been crucial?" he asked taking a sip of his drink.

"I am a Slayer. My time is crucial." she replied.

"So basically, you're just pissed off that I fell in love with you." He said leaning back and smirking at her.

She scowled at him and turned to look out the window beside her. They had already gotten off the ground and she hadn't even noticed. She looked down at the world below and sighed.

Buffy felt Spike's eyes on her and turned to look in his direction. He was sitting there, all lean and comfy, staring at her as if it didn't bother her.

She tried to ignore it for a while but his staring got more and more intense and she felt hot throughout her body.

Annoyed with the vampire she turned to glare at him.

"What are you looking at?" she asked him slightly meeting his eyes.

It sounded like a seductive purr. "Well, I am looking at you, pet."

_And everything  
I can remember  
As fed up  
As it all may seem  
To me, I know it's me_

Buffy gulped at the burning sensation his gaze made her feel.

"Can you please stop...that...you know,...the looking," she said averting her gaze and hiding her flushed appearance.

His eyes scorched her with their midnight blue light. "As you wish," he whispered and smiled, enjoying her flustered appearance.

She looked at him in wonder and for the first time recognized his sense of humor. He was doing it to make her uncomfortable, and it had worked. Did he know her that well? Even after one hundred years, did he still remember the right buttons to push, the right words to say, the right look to give? If it was so, he then had changed her entire perspective on life.

When he had nearly gotten himself killed to protect her and her sister, she had seen him as a man to be grateful to, when he had helped her even though he though she would never love him he had seen him as a partner she would trust with her life. When she had woken up to see him looking at her, and knowing that he kept his promise even though he had no longer her to impress, she had respected him. But now, when he still stands by her after all the things she has told him and done to him, she saw him as something so different from everything that should be associated with Spike that it was frightening to the thought.

She couldn't say she loved him, because even then she had known that she didn't, but she owed him more than another man alive.

And that placed him in a different light.

Different than Riley, who was just comfort. Different than Angel, who was so dark and doomed.

"What happened to Angel?" she asked out of the blue.

Spike turned his head to look at her, but the look in his eyes told her that she might not want to hear it.

"I want to know," she said "Everything."

He nodded and took a deep unnecessary breath.

"He died human," he stated and waited for her response.

Buffy heard the words as if they were being sung by the wind when it echoes in a stormy night.

"What?" she whispered.

"His reward, for redemption was to be human again. He got his reward ten years after you died," he said, taking a gulp form his drink.

Buffy's bottom lips quivered in hurt, betrayal or pain. She couldn't tell--she just felt numb.

She managed a small sad smile. "I see." she whispered.

"He...married and had kids and died, just like everyone else." he said and looked away from her.

The way he had said married burned in Buffy's throat.

"Who?" she whispered.

Spike knew what she was talking about and refused to look at her.

"I know her, don't I?" she said a bit stronger.

He nodded.

Buffy felt her entire stomach quiver with fresh bile that was threatening to spill.

"He married Faith." he said and looked down.

The next thing that Buffy felt was Spike basically carrying her to the mini-bathroom and putting her head over the toilet.

The toilet seemed friendly as she emptied her troubles into it. Spike's soothing hand rubbing her back lightly was the only other comfort she found.

Her bottom lip quivered as tears mixed in with orange vomit.

She sobbed and coughed until she thought life might expire form her.

Her Angel, the man she had suffered so much for had married the one woman she truly hated with everything that was her.

"Why?" she heard herself almost scream. With a sudden brush she was pulled back from the porcelain and pallid liquid was wiped softly form her lips then she was embraced by strong protective arms.

She heard cooing sounds as she sobbed her eyes out. She held on to Spike's embrace as if the last bit of what she knew would suddenly disappear.

After what seemed like hours of trembling and crying, she finally was able to breath with out tears coming to her eyes and she pulled back from his strong arms.

"I am sorry." she apologized to him.

She finally saw his face. It was tender and loving, like a friend that listens to you and understands.

"Don't be," he said, helping stand up.

He gently placed her before the sink and left her to clean up.

As Spike locked the door behind him he realized he was trembling and cursed himself repeatedly. He didn't know if he was mad at himself for getting his feelings in the way of the small blonde girl or if he mad at the poof for doing this to her, though he couldn't really blame him--she had died. He himself had even moved on, though not forgotten and he was sure that was the case with Angel.

He was also mad at the powers for putting this girl through more that what she had already been through.

He sat down heavily on the sofa and fumed in his own thoughts as he looked out the window at the world below.

He was snapped out of his thoughts as the what now seemed tiny girl exited the bathroom.

"Better?" he asked quietly as she took a seat. She nodded but avoided her eyes. "Here," he said taking out a cold can of 7up from the refrigerator. "It'll make you feel better."

Without a word she took the cold green can from his hand and drank it whole. By the time the cold liquid had settled in her stomach her trembling had stopped and so had the spinning.

"Sorry," he said avoiding her gaze.

"Don't be," she repeated what he had said earlier. Without a further word she lay back on the long sofa and buried her head under her arms.

She was half asleep when she felt a blanket being wrapped around her making her nice and warm. She snuggled further into the warmth and slept her troubles away.

_And it's been a while  
Since I could  
Hold my head up high  
And it's been a while  
Since I said "I'm sorry"_

--

"If you want something badly, let it go. If it comes back to you, then it's your forever. If it doesn't, then it was never yours to begin with."

from Indecent Proposal


	8. Motherland

The World Below (100 Years of Solitude)

Motherland-part 8 of "100 Years of Solitude" (_Races Condemned to 100 yrs of solitude did not have a second opportunity on earth_)

by: Isabelle

-Disclaimers: Title belongs entirely to Gabriel Garcia Marquez--just borrowing it for the sake of the story. Buffy, Spike, Whistler and all the memories belong to Joss and his crew. All other characters are entirely mine. Lyrics belong to Jessica Simpson _Irresistible_.

--

_Nunca pude imaginar, lo que tu eres para mi _(Never did I imagine what you meant to me)  
_En mi vida eres el sol que ilumina mi existir_ (In my life you are the sun that lights my life)  
_Hoy te ago una promesa y te la voy a cumplir_ (Today I make you a promise and I will keep it)  
_De tu vida soy esclavo, solo vivo para ti_ (I am a slave of your love, I only live for you)

_Alejandro Fernandez's Promesa_ (Promise)

--

(Bogota Airport, Columbia)

"They're here, Senor," the man said into the phone.

"Make sure they get everything they need. You understand their importance don't you?" the deep voice answered in the other line.

"Of course, Senor. We are making sure they are well accommodated," he answered.

"Good."

/CLICK/

The man holding the phone hung up the receiver and looked at the men around him.

"Que esperan? Saludenlos!!" (What are you waiting for? Go greet them!!) he cried to the men and in seconds the room was empty.

He made sure he was alone before taking out the mini-cell phone from his shirt pocket.

"Senora?" (Madame?)

"What news?" the female voice came from the phone.

"The Pacificador has arrived with the Slayer. The legendary one, brought back from the dead. They say she's deadly and immortal, guarded by the Powers." he said almost trembling into the tiny speaker.

"Superstitious fool!!" she cried. "All Slayers are mortal. Why do you think they had to bring her back from the dead, you idiot!"

"But, Senora..."

"No buts'. I want them dead, both, tonight!!"

/Click/

--

Player: Coach, you're gonna get a stroke.

Coach: I don't get strokes, motherfu, I give 'em."

_Any Given Sunday_

--

_You know  
I don't know what it is  
But everything about you  
Is so irresistible_

"Pet, we're here."

Buffy groggily rose her head to look at the offending voice that thundered in her head.

"We're in Bogota," Spike said, putting on his coat and getting Buffy's.

"How long did I sleep?" She murmured, rubbing her eyes.

"'Bout three hours. The whole trip is only five hours," he said.

She sat up and straightened her clothes. Thank goodness she wore jeans and a tight shirt, otherwise she would be rumpled.

"Welcoming committee is 'ere," Spike said as he looked out the little window of the plane.

"Welcoming committee?" she asked confused and walked over to look at what he was referring to.

Before she saw about twenty men dressed all in black, with AK-47 on each of their shoulders and leading a way to two large SUV's with window tinted the color of night.

"I see what you mean," she said, and took her black leather coat that matched Spike's from his hand.

"Here starts the fun," he said and led the way to the entrance of the small jet.

Diego held the door open for them and avoided both of their glares.

"Thank you," Buffy said icily to the cowering man.

"De nada." (You're welcome) he replied, still not meeting her gaze.

She followed Spike, that seemed to be having the time of his life, as he greeted some of the men that were dressed in black.

She heard him laughing and found herself smiling as he talked easily in Spanish to one of the men. Her gaze followed to the SUV's where a young man about her age saw Spike and his face transformed into glee.

"Spike!!" he cried and walked fast to meet the vampire half way.

Spike looked at the man with happiness and humor. "Felipe!!" Spike said as both men embraced and laughed. As if they were long time friends who had not seen each other in ages.

"How are you, amigo?" the young brunette said to the blond as they smiled at each other.

"Not as well as you, I see. Look at you, all grown up!" Spike said stepping back and looking inspecting the young man.

"Well if you would visit more often you wouldn't see the change. "Felipe said smiling at the elder.

"C'mere, kid, want you to meet someone." Spike said leading the guy to Buffy's direction.

Buffy braced herself as the handsome young man looked her over and gave her a bright smile that clearly showed his dimples.

His chocolate brown eyes reminded Buffy of Angel...then she decided he might not be as good looking as she originally thought.

_Don't you try to tell me  
That he's not my type  
To hide what I feel inside  
When he makes me  
Weak with desire_

"This is the Slayer, Buffy Summers," Spike said, as Felipe grabbed Buffy's hand and pulled her to him kissing her on the cheek.

Buffy was completely taken back. It had taken her four year to even kiss Spike. This guys did it with in the second of meeting her.

Spike sensed her discomfort. "New culture, Slayer. Here, a kiss on the cheek is the same as a handshake."

Buffy smiled and tried to play it off. "Of course, nice to meet you, Felipe," she said smiling lightly to the young man.

Felipe looked at Buffy in wonder. "This is a real honor, Ms. Summers. Wait until my sister meets you. You were he favorite fairy tale."

Spike laughed out loud and Buffy glared at him.

"I am honored." she hissed at Felipe but looked at the laughing Spike.

"Enough chit, chat. Vamos! (Come) Papa is waiting for you." Felipe said, letting Buffy go ahead of them to the expensive SUV's and wrapping his arm around Spike still smiling.

"Welcome home, man." he said.

Spike smiled at the young man. "It's good to be home."

_I know that I'm supposed  
To make him wait  
Let him think I like the chase  
But I can't stop fanning the fire  
I know I'm meant to say no_

--

Joe: You're crazy about him--"  
Kathleen: Yes, I am.  
Joe: Then why don't you run off with him? What are you waiting for?  
Kathleen: I don't really know him.

_You've Got Mail_

--

The drive through the country was breathtaking. The land was pure green and fertile. They had gotten there to enjoy the five hours of daylight that grazed the virgin land.

From the car window Buffy saw the purity of it all, and understood how one could fall in love with such a paradise. She saw children playing at the edge of the streets with simple games that told of centuries past. Mothers tending to children and doing the laundry at the same time, and fathers working with all their might to provide for their families.

She smiled in spite of it all. These were the lives she was born to protect. They were responsibility. She looked over to where Spike was having a vivid conversation in Spanish with Felipe. She had never see him so alive...so human. Even with the sun reflecting off his pale skin he still looked nocturnal.

Like he was there but he was a mystery to the daylight.

_But he's irresistible  
Up close and personal  
Now inescapable  
I can hardly breathe_

She was taken off guard as he turned and smiled at her. She was left breathless. What was he doing to her? It was like he was intoxicating her. With his charm, with his life, with his talks, with his work, with the form of the man he had become.

She smiled back and went back to looking at the darkening paradise before her. It was a shame that this land had to live under such darkness. This was a land of the sun, that should live under its rays, not cover in darkness and the mist of evil. But this was the hellmouth. Here it had been cursed to reside, here was where she would die again.

"We're here." Felipe told her form the front seat. She smiled from her back seat next to Spike.

Her eyes wondered to where 'here' was at. And there before her lay a hill, with a beautiful Plantation. It was gorgeous and timeless. The driveway was paved in loose brick-colored river rocks. All around it was a garden of tropical flowers whose colors ranged from fuchsia to turquoise blue. It was three stories high with hanging garden all around the rails, intertwined with X-mas lights.

Around it were palm trees that swayed with the wind and over looked the large cliff that reflected the expansive sea. The house was white with terra cotta shingles which the Sun reflected off. The grass around it was a deep intoxicating green that shined with the wind.

"Home, sweet home." Spike murmured as he looked at the house. Buffy could have sworn she saw a glint of something in his eyes, something that she had never seen in him before, something that could be the entire explanation for this difference in Spike.

Something along the lines of acceptance. Here he had found his refuge, his_ bohio_.

As the SUV's drove up the pebble drive way the house began to take life. People came out of doors Buffy couldn't even see. It reminded her of the Wizard of Oz.

All the inhabitants were smiling and nearly jumping for joy. It made Buffy feel like she had interrupted some type of family reunion.

"Spike's here."

Buffy could hear their excited voices through the glass, making her stomach quiver with nerves.

She truly had not expected this, not a family waiting for the arrival of the vampire she had thought so low of.

The voices were filled with love. When the car stopped, Spike literally flew out, and Buffy right behind him.

A small girl of about six came running down the path and literally jumped on Spike as he picked her up and swirled her in the air.

"Spike!!" she squealed in happiness. Her brown curls flew in the wind as Spike brought her down and kissed her cheek. He had a permanent smile on his face and Buffy couldn't help put think what a wonderful father he would make.

"Vanessa!" he said to the giggling girl, as she wrapped her tiny-chubby arms around his pale neck.

A short, dark man came trotting down the path. A sincere smile could be seen through his thick black beard and mustache.

"William!!" he said, and Spike put the child down and embraced the elder man who laughed hearty and full of life. He patted Spike on the back.

The small child wrapped herself around Spike's leg not letting him go as her father embraced Spike like an old forgotten son that finally came home.

_More than just physical  
Deeper than spiritual  
His ways are powerful  
Irresistible to me_

Buffy was thrown from her thoughts as she heard the scream of a woman. The woman had salt-and pepper hair that was tied to a light bun at the nape of her neck. She had been baking and was covered with flour and sugar.

Spike let go of the man and literally raised the woman off the floor and he clasped her. She was crying as she pulled back and kissed both of his cheeks.

Buffy nearly fell over at the scene before her. Here Spike was being accepted by humans who could care less he was a soulless demon.

Buffy's throat felt like burning coal at the thought that Spike could be so loved and accepted when she and her own had rejected him so much and threaded him so bad. Granted--he did try to kill them various times, but at the end she had still been weary of him.

"Mi hijo, como me hacias falta!!" (My son, I missed you so much.) the woman said as Spike put her down and hugged her some more.

"Prometo venir mas a menudo," (I promise to come more often.) Spike said, kissing the temple of the small dark woman. "Slayer, this is Sammy el Torro, call him Sam, and his lovely wife, Risa."

"And you must be Buffy," the dark bearded man said as he approached the Slayer.

Buffy stood rigid, Spike must have told them about her. So she smiled and extended her hand, but she was pulled into an embrace.

"Hi." came her muffled reply as the man let her go.

"Now you're family," he said laughing and patting her back as he brought her towards were Spike was. The woman looked at her with kind eyes. Buffy noted that she smelled of oregano and spices.

"Of course, you darling girl," the woman said as she took Buffy's face in her hands and kissed both cheeks.

Buffy couldn't help but smile at this family. They embraced everyone with open hearts, and she felt herself melting into their love.

"You've brought us a pretty girl, Spike," the woman said smiling at Buffy.

"So they say," he replied as he lifted the little girl into his arms. She gladly grabbed on to him and picked him in the cheek as he chuckled.

The woman linked her arms with Buffy and urged her to follow into the house.

A young girl, not much younger that Buffy, appeared in the main doorway. Her hair was thick and black, her skin a tanned olive, with bright green eyes that shined off her face as she smiled. Her high cheekbones were an elegant match to her slim well-shaped body.

"Spike." she exhaled and Buffy caught the look in her eyes--it was the look she used to give Angel when she was younger.

Spike placed down the young girl, who protested loudly, and walked up to the young woman. She nearly melted into a puddle when he walked up to her and took her hand, bringing it to his lips and smiling.

"Look at you," he said as she blushed. "You've grown up to be beautiful."

Buffy saw the girl's knees buckle and narrowed her eyes.

"Thank you Spike." she said breathlessly. "It's good to have you back."

"Come meet the new Slayer." Spike said bringing her to face Buffy. The girl smiled brightly at Buffy.

"Buffy Summers," he said.

Buffy saw the girl's face fall in horror. Her bottom lip quivered and her green eyes grew huge as she looked at the slayer. "Oh." was all that she said.

"Nice to meet you,...ah?" Buffy asked in triumph.

"Valentina. But we call her Val," Spike said, smiling at the brunette.

"You're Buffy." Val more stated than asked.

Spike took a deep unnecessary breath. _Women_. He thought.

_Don't you think I'm trying  
To tell my heart what's right  
That I should really say goodnight  
But I just can't stop myself_

"Yes." Buffy replied and extended her hand.

Val reached for her hand and lightly shook it. "Well," she said "I am sure Spike is glad to have you back." she stated, and Buffy could see Spike visibly pale.

"Good friends from way back when." Buffy said quickly. She didn't want these people getting the wrong impression. For some reason she felt that she was meeting his family and all she did was being looked over by a meticulous eye.

"I know," she said, a bit icily. "Bienvenida." (Welcome)

"Come on, let's meet the rest of the family." the man next to her broke in as he gently nudged here to go indoors. Spike again resumed his position, lifting the small girl in his arms and walking next to Val. This act of his made Buffy very uncomfortable. The girl must have been around 18 or so. Looking at them from behind, they looked like a normal family.

She tried to ignore these weird feelings she was having and concentrated on the light breeze blowing warmly on her face and the scent of Risa's soiled apron.

They continue to talk of idle thing as they entered the house and for some reason Buffy felt right at home. These people were so warm and giving it almost filled her heart. She could see why Spike had accepted this as his home away from home.

A young skinny boy came running down the marble stairs and as he saw Spike his face lit up. "Spike!!" he cried.

"Hiya Junior," Spike said as the boy hugged his mid-section and Spike tousled dark brown curls.

"Where you been?" Jr. asked the blond.

"Been around, kid. Brought you something too," Spike said, smiling at the boy.

"How about me!?" the little girl in Spike arms piped in as the young boy's eyes lit up.

Spike chuckled and hugged her further. "You too, brought something for of you."

"Are you the new slayer?" the young boy asked Buffy. She noted that he had the same wide green eyes as his sister.

"Yes." she said smiling and extending her hand. But the boy leaned up and kissed her cheek. Buffy blushed for the 100th time that day.

"Thank you." she mumbled still smiling.

"You're prettier than in the movie," he said, smiling.

Buffy choked on nothing in particular. She heard Spike's muffled chuckles and wanted desperately to slam him against a wall the way she used to only weeks ago,...but then again it had really been a century ago. _God, this was so confusing_. She debated in her mind.

"Vamos! Tonight there will be much feasting." Sammy said, laughing and patting Buffy's back affectionately.

As Spike put down the little girl, she ran to her father's arms and Buffy almost felt a pang of jealousy at the sight of the father hugging his daughter.

"Where's Felipe?" Val asked pointedly ignoring Buffy.

"He was parking the car." Risa answered taking off her apron.

"Let me help him with the luggage," Spike quickly said.

"No, Spike, you're a guest," Val insisted.

"He's family, Valeria." her mother scowled her.

Spike smiled and patted her hair affectionately. "Don't worry 'bout it, kid."

Buffy saw Val visible flinch at the affectionate name.

"Valeria, why don't you show Buffy to her room." Risa said, smiling. She turned to look at Buffy. "Please, feel at home." she said before she kissed her again on the cheek and scurried off to the kitchen.

Before Buffy knew it she was alone with Val in the foyer. Jr. had run off after Spike, and Sammy and Vanessa had disappeared.

"Well, _Buffy_," she said icily, "Come with me."

"You don't have to," Buffy said, a bit uncomfortable by this girl's attitude.

Val turned to smiled at her. It was a fake smile, Buffy noted. "Of course I do, you're like a sister now," she said over-enthusiastically.

Buffy smirked. "Lead away." she said gesturing for her to proceed. Already she was beginning to dislike this.

_Maybe I'll tell him  
That I feel the same  
That I don't want  
To play no game_

--

"I've been keeping these here since you last came." Sammy told Spike as they walked into the dark tunnel underneath the mansion.

Buffy was holding the lantern and clutching on to Spike's arm, trying to see in the darkened pit.

"What's in here--torture devices?" Buffy asked jokingly.

"Something like that," Spike replied and continued walking while Buffy stared at him in confusion.

_When I feel his arms  
Hooked around me  
I know I'm meant to say no  
(I meant to say no)_

"Slayer, the light," Spike said over his shoulder and Buffy rapidly caught up with him.

"Here it is," Sammy exclaimed as he reached a tiny wooden door with a silver lock. "You got to be looking for it if you're going to find it."

Buffy and Spike waited while the man opened the small door and let himself in. Both Vampire and Slayer followed in after him.

The room was about as big as the Magic Shop had been. But it was dark and damp, and it smelled of storage and gun powder.

All the small four walls were covered with weapons, ranging from AK-47, to handhelds, knifes, swords, grenades, army suits, to even C-4 and some dynamite.

"I guess this is the arsenal." Buffy said looking in wonder at the collection her vampire had stored up.

"Yup." Spike replied as he grabbed a 10 gauge and studied it.

Buffy ran her hand lightly over the sword that was propped on a shelf. It was mystical, slim and powerful. She knew it must be light by the looks of it. The engravings were exquisite, and it depicted a story on the handle. She squirmed in the darkness as she tried to see what story it was depicting. She recognized a blonde girl who was running towards a mystical floating circle--like a portal. The portal was suspended in the air--defying the laws of time and space--as it waited with open arms for the girl to dive in. The girl was on top of a tower and the jump was suicide. At the bottom of the tower there was a man--dressed in black--crying as he saw the girl, whom he obviously loved, plunge to her death.

A dark, bitter seed settled it self at the pit of Buffy's stomach. This was her--this was her story. Her death was engraved on the metallic base of this powerful sword. Her mouth went dry as she recognized that the man on the ground was Spike--mourning her. With a look of total catastrophe on his face. There was blood running down his marred face and he looked in agony to the Slayer--witnessing her brave death.

_He's irresistible  
(Irresistible)  
Up close and personal  
Now inescapable  
I can hardly breathe_

"You found it."

Buffy nearly dropped the lantern at the sound of Spike's deep voice whispering to her.

She turned to face him and his gaze held her intently. "_La Llave_."

"What?" she asked, confused.

"The key," he said signaling to the engraved sword. "It's the sword of the Slayers...has been for seventy five years-now."

Buffy picked up the sword. It was light to the weight, but deadliness seeped through the steel edges. "It's beautiful."

"It's Tatiana's gift to you." he said studying the way she was inspecting the sword.

"_La llave_ is as mystical as its origins." Sammy said in his deep voice as he studied the couple. "No one knows were it came from, but when the time was right it came. Legend says that seventy-five years ago, before the great wars, Ivana, the slayer then fell in love with a vampire named Christian. He fought side by side with her, denying his kind to be with his love. One night they were trapped by a demon in a metal bolt room. There was no way out. After three days of being trapped the vampire became mad with hunger. He lost all rational thought and lounged at his love in search of her veins. Ivana refused to kill her love so she let him drain her.

Upon filling his veins with her life blood Christian regained sanity and saw what he had done. He wept for hours over the body of his love begging for death. His wish was granted when a mystical hand of a past slayer reached from the ground with La Llave in its grasp and sliced Christian's head off.

Ivana's watcher found them the next day. The slayer's body covered with the vanishing ash of her love and a golden sword in her hand. This was it. Since then it can only be touched by the Slayer and her true love. All those who touch the sword die instantly."

Buffy stared at the sword for a long time, remembering that time that seemed so long ago. Of all the people she thought she loved there was only one there with her in the monumental inscription. Spike. He was there.

Never left, constant and loyal.

_(I can hardly breathe)  
More than just physical  
Deeper than spiritual  
(Oh yeah)  
His ways are powerful  
Irresistible to me_

The thought shook Buffy to the very core and on impulse she dropped the precious sword.

Spike saw her and his vampiric reflexes moved him to intervene between the sword and the floor, catching the sword in midair.

The moment seemed like hours to Buffy who saw in slow motion as the vampire grabbed the deadly sword. Her brain gave a jolt as her insides screamed with horror.

She could see him die before her very eyes and there would be nothing that she could do to stop it.

"Spike." was the bare whisper that came in agony from her lips as his pale fingers wrapped themselves around the shaft of the sword.

Spike raised the sword to her face and glared at her. "Don't drop the sword," he said sternly, completely oblivious that she was about to panic.

Tears formed in her eyes as he talked to her. _He has no idea_. She blindly thought.

"No," she murmured.

"No, what? You don't drop the sword, Slayer. This is historical crap, get in real trouble if you go on scratching it," Spike said, grabbing the gun he had been eying before.

Buffy took a couple a seconds to register that Spike wasn't dead. He was alive. He was touching the sword. It meant one of two things. Sammy had lied about the touching rule. Two: Spike was her...

"You're not dead," she said looking at the hand that held the sword.

"Yes I am." Spike replied confused.

"No you're not, you didn't die, and you're touching the sword."

Spike sighed and Sammy chuckled. She glared at both of them.

"Bloody 'ell, Slayer! I've always been able to touch the damn sword. I am the keeper." Spike said shaking his head.

She stared at him in dismay. She had nearly mourned him and here he was still alive with his cocky smile.

"You asshole!" she cried and lashed out and punched him square in the jaw.

Sammy scurried out of the room. The last thing he wanted to do was be in the line of fire between the slayer and Spike.

"What gives, Slayer?" Spike as he recoiled back, clutching his jaw.

"I thought you were dying!!" she screamed. She had been worried. Her chest had felt the pain of losing him.

"I am dead." he cried glaring at her.

"Get deader." she replied and turned from him so he couldn't see the water that was accumulating in her eyes.

It was getting hot and stuffy and she felt the room get smaller by the second.

Spike stared at her. She was in denial, he though happily.

"Slayer, look at me," he said placing the sword and the gun down gently and walking up to her.

She ignored him.

"Look at me!" he cried impatiently.

Buffy spun on her heel and glared at him. "Why? So you can talk to me like you know me." she spit out.

_Can't you see  
Whenever he's close to me  
I really find it  
Hard to breathe?_

Spike's eyes narrowed dangerously. She had retreated back to her safe shell and he was talking to Buffy in defensive mode.

Slowly he walked to face her until their faces were mere inches away. "Never will you meet another person that will know you more that I do." he hissed.

Her face hardened in defiance. "Aren't you special? Funny how you know me so well when I hardly even talk to you." She replied bitterly.

Spike grabbed her by her upper arms and pulled her close against his body. Buffy felt the hardness of his chest and his muscled legs pulsating against her own clothed skin.

_He's so irresistible  
You know  
He's so irresistible  
(You're so irresistible) _

_He's irresistible (yeah)  
Up close and personal  
Now inescapable  
I can hardly breathe_

"I don't have to talk to you. I've been watching you for years and unlike every other man in your life, I am still here. One hundred years have passed, and who are you stuck with? ME!! Not Angel, not Riley, not even Xander but ME!! It has always been me. What's bothering you is that I am not willing to follow you like a puppy dog like all your other men, and even me so long ago."

Buffy felt his every word sting at her heart. She felt that same bile threatening to spill out of her mouth, a mouth that was so close to Spike. She could push him off, but her hands were not responding. The feel of his body felt molten against her, and she would die before she would take that feeling away.

"The sacrifice..." he continued.

"Sacrifice!!" she laughed. "You have no idea what sacrifice is."

He tightened his grip on her and brought their faces in closer proximity.

_(I can hardly breath)  
More than just physical  
Deeper than spiritual  
His ways are powerful  
Irresistible to me  
(Irresistible to me)_

"The only idea of sacrifice that you know is because it comes with the job description. It's what you do, it's your calling, your bloody duty," he paused and stared at her, drowning in her large green eyes. "Try going against everything that makes you, all your god-given instincts and throwing them all out the window to impress a cold grave that hates you even in death. Then you preach to me about sacrifice."

Buffy's bottom lips trembled as the cold fire that was his skin came closer to her. "That's not sacrifice," she said looking into his blue eyes. They were a mirage of the calm ocean. "That's being a fool."

Spike released her and she almost cried out at the loss of skin contact. He shook his head and stared at her. "No, I don't think you'll ever understand."

Buffy hated him and wanted him all at the same time. "Am I that transparent?" she said sarcastically.

"No,...you're just scared," he said picking up the weapons. She watched him carefully.

_He's irresistible (yeah)  
Up close and personal  
Now inescapable  
I can hardly breathe  
(Irresistible to me)_

"Scared?" she mocked. "Of what? Your humanity?"

Their eyes held each other as he bore and tore at her soul. "No...," he whispered. "Of my love," he said and walked out of the small room, leaving her with nothing but a lantern and too many thoughts to ponder.

_More than just physical  
Deeper than spiritual  
His ways are powerful  
Irresistible to me  
(Irresistible to me)_


	9. Long Last

The World Below (100 Years of Solitude)

Long Last (100 Years of Solitude)

Disclaimers: Title belongs entirely to Gabriel Garcia Marquez--just borrowing it for the sake of the story. Buffy, Spike, Whistler and all the memories belong to Joss and his crew. All other characters are entirely mine. Lyrics belong to Bruce Springsteen's Secret Garden, and Luis Miguel's Usted, and are used without permission.

--

_She'll let you in her house _

_If you come knockin' late at night _

_She'll let you in her mouth if the _

_Words you say are right _

"Concentrate," he said from the microphone that came out of the one-sided mirror.

'Concentrate', he says. Why doesn't he get his ass down here and concentrate,' she thought.

The green demon swung a right and she ducked easily. But she knew her moves were rusty. The creature roared and bolted at her in a sudden rush. She rolled on the floor and flipped over to kick him hard and square in the back.

"Good, now terminate him," Spike said.

She glared at the mirror behind which the aggravating voice originated.

The creature staggered from too many hits to the head and torso. Buffy took advantage of his position as he fell, and placed her foot firmly on his neck. In one swift move she twisted her boot and snapped it.

She panted as she looked on the corpse. 'Live training, not bad,' she thought. There was applause from behind her, a slow sarcastic clap that made her spin around sharply in fighting position.

Spike stood behind her. "Nice work, luv," he said.

She smiled and wiped her sweaty forehead. "Who are you?" she asked him, playing along.

Spike took out a cigarette and lighted it. "You'll find out tonight."

Buffy frowned, confused. "What happens tonight?"

He smirked at her. "Slayer, I thought you were smarter than that."

She scowled back at him. "Don't have time for this, Spike. I am going to get ready for tonight." She walked past him and out of the room.

The scent of her sweat still surrounded him, as he stood looking at the demon. "Pent," he said, "Get your ugly ass up, I know she didn't kill you." The green mass of goo moved groggily, snapping his head back into place. "Go get cleaned up, you mutt."

The demon stood on shaky legs and glared at the vampire. "The hell was that?" he asked.

"A Slayer," Spike responded, crushing his cigarette beneath his boot.

"Don't fuck with me, vampire," said the demon, cracking his neck. "I've fought Slayers before. That was not a slayer."

"Let's just say she has a bit of divine intervention," Spike said, looking over at the trainer.

Pent took a deep breath, shaking his head. "Something big is coming."

Spike smirked. "Something big is always coming."

"You callin' the players?" asked the demon.

Spike nodded and walked away. Pent shook his head at the retreating figure, defeated.

--

"Are you sure?"

"Ye-yes ma'am," Diego stuttered.

The red head gave a wide, evil smile. "Ain't life sweet." Diego stood motionless as the seductress strutted up to him, swinging her hips invitingly, making him harden instantly. "Really, really sweet," she said, wrapping her arms around him and leaning in to his ear.

"I want her dead."

Diego swallowed and tried to compose himself.

"An- and the vampire?" he asked.

"Bring him to me--we have some unfinished business. Make sure she dies. The master will not be pleased if the slayer is allowed to live." She grazed her teeth along his earlobe. The man could only nod. "And Diego?" she began, looking at his lust-clouded eyes. "The cartel does not tolerate failure."

He understood and nodded through his need. "Tonight. They die tonight."

--

"Love takes off masks that we fear we cannot live without and know we cannot live within."

James Baldwin

--

_If you pay the price _

_She'll let you deep inside _

_But there's a secret garden she hides _

_She'll let you in her car _

"Can I talk to you for a second?"

Spike spun around. Sammy had sneaked up on him as only he could.

"Claro." (Of Course), Spike said, smiling. He turned back to his closet and searched for a shirt to match his trousers.

Sammy walked over to the large bed and sat at the edge of it, reclining softly into the rich dark velvet.

"So how are you holding up?" he started.

Spike paused. Turning to study the man, his brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

Sammy took a deep breath, rubbing his dark hands together. "The Slayer. I know what she means to you."

Spike shook his head, taking a seat next to Sammy. "What she meant to me, mate...It's not like that anymore." Sammy nodded. "She's just another slayer. Stay with 'er for a couple of days, make sure she's good and ready. Then I leave--like I always do." Spike picked up his shoes and started putting them on.

"You mean to tell me, that you have no feelings for this girl?" Sammy asked the indifferent blonde.

"Well I care 'bout 'er and all, but it's not the same. Time changes that."

"Time changes nothing. I've seen the way you look at her..." he began.

"Time changes everything! And I look at 'er the same way I look at the other slayers." Spike stood and furiously he yanked a shirt from his closet. He was not listening to this. This wound would not be re-opened.

Yes, he had felt himself melt into her, whenever she looked at him as if he were the last person on earth; as if her entire existence depended on him. He saw it-he saw it in himself. But perhaps if he left her and went away...the reality would not claw at him, it wouldn't remind him of things he had chosen to forget. It would not hurt as bad.

He was jerked back from these thoughts by a warm hand on his shoulder, giving it a light squeeze. He slumped in defeat. He couldn't hide things from Sammy. Since the first time he met the man, he'd always been able to see right through him. There was silence as the men shared a mutual companionship. "It's hard," Spike said, his eyes downcast.

Sammy turned him to look at him. "I know."

"It's not right-she's not supposed to be 'ere. I buried her-she's dead." He paused and licked his lips; he was suddenly very dry. "But when I look at 'er, she's so alive that I can hear the blood pumping through her veins and I can feel her fighting her walls of insecurities and I can see her hurtin', and I can feel myself loving 'er. But I can't." Spike looked at the man before him. "She's gonna die someday again. And I can't bury her twice. How many tears can a man cry?"

"A man cries until he is sated. At the end of the long cry he finds meaning again. You've made it this far and the powers wouldn't choose just any ordinary vampire. They chose you for a reason. You carried her strength and her memories-it's what has made you strong. You're looking at it as if she's the one who has been given a second chance--but in reality it is you who has been given the second chance. The chance to make it right. This...is your payment. Spend it wisely."

--

_To go drivin' round _

_She'll let you into the parts of herself _

_That'll bring you down _

_She'll let you in her heart _

He wondered when he had last seen perfection like this. She was angelic. The valley between her breasts hinted at fuller curves hidden elsewhere on her slender form. Her hips moved in a graceful rhythm as she descended the staircase. It wasn't what she was wearing. The dress was modest , meeting her knees. No, it was the sheer power burning through that silk, behind those muscled thighs. It left him trembling like a schoolboy; and he hated it. Her eyes were drifted over the people buzzing in and out. There were many, and yet he felt as if she and he were alone on the stairs.

Buffy's breath caught in her throat at the intensity of the gaze of Spike's liquid blue eyes, eyes that screamed lust and desire, eyes that were empty of love. In that frozen moment, she felt a little like Scarlett O'Hara, trapped beneath the knowing gaze of Rhett Butler. It was exhilarating. She was moving, but she was aware of nothing but the pools of sea foam blue that darkened with her approach.

Spike was sure he was salivating. She was more real now than at any moment since she rose. It hit him at that moment: His Buffy was alive. He was no longer guiding a slayer to her path; he was no longer recounting the story of his life. Suddenly he realized that she was truly a living breathing person again- with the capacity to live, love, and break his heart all over again.

It was so very clear; he understood everything. He could hear Whistler's voice in his head. 'You'll see. Love does not go away. It is only ignored. Right now you are all she has. You're what she needs.' He snapped out it; the moment was gone, the spell was broken.

Buffy took a second to compose herself. _What the hell had just happened?_ She couldn't do this, not another vampire, not _Spike_. No way. She was the slayer, he was a soulless vampire. No matter how glorified he had become, no matter that he no longer slept in a crypt, no matter that he had the blessings of the powers themselves; she knew he was a forbidden fruit. But then, why? Why this tingling attraction towards those blazing blue eyes?

Spike calmed himself down by the time she reached the bottom of the stairs, and was actually grateful that they weren't alone. The silence would have been too awkward and things were weird enough between them as it was.

So the blasting Latin music in the background served as a comfortable bolster for them in their awkwardness. "Hungry?" he asked as he extended his arm to lead her.

She caught herself checking his arm for a weapon. "Oh- yeah," she nodded. Sliding her bare arm through his cashmere-covered one, he led her through the crowd. "There are so many people here. Who are they?" she asked.

He leaned in to her, and spoke in to her ear over the music. "Sammy and Risa know half the town. When they throw a party, everyone is invited."

She smiled at the people around her. Their blonde heads may have marked them as outsiders, but they were greeted as warmly as anyone. Buffy noticed with some panic that Spike was leading her towards the dance floor. She recalled the way her body had reacted to his, when last they were pressed together. Unconsciously, she anticipated the moment as much as she dreaded it. As if on cue the music changed from a Salsa to a slow sensual rhythm. In some respects she was grateful; she'd had no idea how to move to the other sound.

Swiftly Spike's other arm wrapped around her, his hand at the small of her back, and gently pressed their bodies together. Timidly she raised her free hand to his neck rested it there, his soft hair tickling her fingertips.

She struggled to keep from shivering. This was the weirdest thing she'd ever done. Perhaps it was the fact that his body molded perfectly with hers. With both Riley and Angel her head barely reached their shoulder-with Spike she could see his eyes. And that was the danger zone.

He began humming the slow tune of the sad man's voice on the track. "What does it say?" she asked, resting her head against his cheek.

"You're gonna have to learn how to speak Spanish," he murmured.

She shrugged. "I still want to know--until then."

He took a deep breath, hesitant to answer her. This song was his feelings incarnated, the raw material he hardly let anyone see even himself.

"You are the guilty one. Of all my anguish, and all my depression. You have filled my life. With sweet anxieties, and bitter disenchantments..." he murmured into her ear. Tingles of lust went though her at the sound of his deeply accented voice driving her senses wild.

"You love is like a scream... that I carry deep in my soul. And deep in my heart... and though I don't want to, I'm slave to your eyes... the toy for your love... "

He turned her to look at him as they moved to the slow, steady rhythm. Their eyes locked on to each other; in this very 'dangerous' position he swayed them, translating. "Please don't play with my pain, or with my feelings, because it is all I have... You are my hope... my only true hope... Please try to understand that...

You make me despair... you are killing me and make me insane... I would give even my life just to pay the price ... of kissing... you."

These last words came out a bare whisper, as his eyes met her rosy mouth. She felt the burning glint of his eyes as he studied her parted lips. Her own gaze wandered to his lips, and for the first time she noted the absurdity of his mouth. Softened to a pout, a pale pink fullness that cried out to be touched. Instinctively she leaned in closer to meet that demand.

He stood stock still as the slayer leaned into him, eyes locked on his mouth. Impulsively his tongue darted out to wet his lips.

She closed her eyes in anticipation. But seconds before their lips could meet, they were thrown back in shock as amazing fireworks burst in the sky overhead.

'Damn,' he thought, realizing the moment was past.

'What the hell were you thinking?' she scolded herself.

The guests cheered the colorful display. But uninterested in the exhibition, he took her arm and led her gently through the crowd. At a solitary spot on the second floor balcony, they stopped, to watch the garden party.

The scene before them reminded Buffy of that movie "Meet Joe Black." The expansive lawn was covered with elegant chairs and fenced in with white Christmas lights that lined the actual party area. Exotic flowers of violet and yellow were everywhere. The Women were even more exotic, full-figured and glowing with the joy of motherhood. The men were darkly handsome, and gifted with the ability to dance and to joke. The flirting going on below them made the space seem close between herself, and the vampire.

_If you got a hammer and a vise _

_But into her secret garden, don't think twice _

_You've gone a million miles _

He studied her as she watched the scene below. He was still reeling from his epiphany earlier; that it was really she. But the intimate moment cut short earlier left him longing to hold her, to feel her heated skin against him.

But he knew the price of taking, and the waiting was worth it. "The night has a thousand eyes," he said, to no one in particular.

She turned to him and smiled at the merest glimpse of 'William' beneath the visage of 'Spike'. "So this is home?" she asked, gesturing to the crowds below. She could see their host and his family enjoying each other's company. Spike nodded and turned to rest his back against the balcony railing. Buffy watched as he took out his pack of cigarettes and lit one. She noticed the silver lighter that he flicked with ease.

"Can I see?" she asked, regarding the lighter. Spike thought for a second and then gave in, letting her study his prized possession. She took the shiny metal in her hands. It was engraved.

"_Always, Forever, D."_

"Always, Forever, D?" she questioned him. He looked away. Taking a long drag off his fag, he looked back at her.

"Always, Forever. Dawn."

Buffy stared at him for a moment and then looked back at the engraved silver in her hand. It was a gift. "She gave it to me on father's day." he chuckled.

"Father's day?" Buffy asked, confused. He nodded.

"She was sixteen and wanted something special. So she gathered her lunch money for some months and bought me that. When I asked her where she got the money, I was right angry- her goin' hungry to get me a present." He smiled at the memory. "Said she was on a diet anyway."

Buffy managed a small smile, as she thought about her little sister and how much she had changed this man's life. After a long silence she spoke. "Thank you."

_How far'd you get to that place where _

_You can't remember and you can't forget _

_She'll lead you down a path _

_There'll be tenderness in the air _

Spike was taken back. She had never thanked him before in his life. "For' what?" he asked, confused.

"For keeping a promise. Even if it meant the death of Spike-for a while at least." She gave back his treasure. He didn't know what to say, so he simply nodded. Buffy observed him speculatively, ruminating upon his intentions and his actions. Then she leaned forward. "You're a good man, William." Her lips brushed his cheek.

Her warm words washed over him as her hot lips met his cool skin. They stared at each other once again in heartbreaking silence. He broke it suddenly, jumping up from the rail where he leaned.

"Uhm. Do you want champagne, wine, anything?" he asked.

His space-placing device took Buffy aback. She nodded numbly, "White wine." As she watched him retreat though the open balcony doors.

_She'll let you come just far enough _

_So you know she's really there _

_She'll look at you and smile _

_And her eyes will say _

--

She watched them from a distance. Agonizing when they danced, seething with jealousy when they almost kissed, happy when they were interrupted, and purely hating when she kissed his cheek.

So when he walked away from the infamous blonde she made her approach. Ascending the stairs she steered through the crowds and made it to where the thinner girl looked over at the party below.

Buffy sensed someone behind her and quickly turned around.

Val stood before her in her curved clinging red satin dress. The low dip of her neckline revealed a full bust line, hinted at carnality. Her dark mass of hair was pinned up and around her face as her green eyes shot a hateful glare at her. Buffy groaned. The woman seethed with jealousy.

"Nice night," Val said, giving out a fake smile. But this time, Buffy didn't return it. She sensed the woman was here on business, and wanted to hear what the full-figured Latina had to say.

"Let me tell you a little story," she began, walking slowly to the railing. "Once upon a time there was a good man who loved a beautiful woman. He loved her with all that he was but she rejected his love. Called him a monster, a creature incapable of love. But this 'monster' stayed with her, was faithful to her, until the day she died. She died never loving him. Now this man was cursed to wonder this earth for a hundred years. Losing everything that made him who he was, flooded by memories of the woman he loved, and her loved ones. But one day he was reborn, when he met another family. They embraced him and did not call him a monster. They loved him with scales and fangs. Then one day, he met another, a woman who loved him for all that he was, willing to give her life for him. Willing to die for him. Willing to do anything just to have a kiss from his mouth. But this man was noble and dared not touch the woman that loved him. But she was faithful and stayed with him. Just when this creature had found new meaning to his life, the woman he loved so long ago was brought back by the gods themselves. The man was confused. He had loved her so long ago and she had no one else in the world. So she wedged herself into this man's life. Shriveled him up into the existence he was back then, and tortured him with visions of what-ifs."

Val stopped, never tearing her gaze from Buffy. Her smile was long gone and her eyes oozed hate. Leaning in, she whispered. "He's mine. And I will not loose him. Especially not to you. So stay away from him."

Buffy crossed her arms over her chest. She was so confused. She didn't know if she should speak for him.

"He'll be leaving you in a couple of days anyway. So get your kicks while you can. You'll soon be dead, just like every other slayer."

Buffy pressed her lips tightly together as she regarded the beauty before her.

_She's got a secret garden _

_Where everything you want _

_Where everything you need _

_Will always stay a million miles away _

"Stay away from him? He's yours? Possessive much?" she snorted. "Let me tell you something about Spike. He does what he wants when he wants, and with whomever he wants. And I am not going to fight for him."

Val looked at her and this gave her a genuine smile. "Then you don't deserve him."

Buffy opened her mouth to respond but was cut off by the sound of gunshots below them. Both women turned to the patio and looked in horror as two dozen armed vampires surrounded the guests below.

"Give us the slayer and nobody dies," the leader cried out, as he pointed a shotgun into the face of a small child.


	10. At the end of the Day

The World Below (100 Years of Solitude)

At The End of the Day- Part 10 of 100 yrs of Solitude (Races condemned to 100 yrs of solitude do not get a second opportunity on earth)

by: Isabelle

-Disclaimers: Title belongs entirely to Gabriel Garcia Marquez--just borrowing it for the sake of the story. Buffy, Spike, Whistler and all the memories belong to Joss and his crew. All other characters are entirely mine. Lyrics belong to Eminem and Dr.Dre, Bi please and are used without permission.

--

_And you really  
Don't wanna fuck with me _  
_Only nigga that I trust is me _  
_Fuck around and make _  
_Me bust this heat _  
_That's tha devil _  
_They always wanna dance_

Spike walked away trembling with confusion and desire. This was NOT the way things were meant to be. He was supposed to be indifferent, uncaring, sliding away from this torturous situation with no problem. But it was of course classic Buffy behavior mucked up his plans. She had gone and completely turned the tables on him.

He was pissed that he was not going to be able to walk away so easily this time. He was excited at the way she was looking at him tonight. What was it with that woman? She always made everything more complicated than it already was.

Roughly taking a glass of white wine from the bartender, he walked back to where his golden girl was--waiting for him like deadly poison. He stopped short as the music cut abruptly off and the crowd started murmuring instead of laughing. His instincts alerted; within seconds he dipped into the shadows, sliding through the building unnoticed.

Then he felt them. Experience told him there were about twenty vampires surrounding the human crowd. He smelled their bloodlust in the air. His hand stole to his leg, as he reached for the small 35 mm pistol he always carried. Then he made his way to where his slayer was. It was time to play nice.

--

_And you really _

_Don't wanna fuck with me _

_Only nigga that I trust is me _

_Fuck around and make _

_Me bust this heat _

_That's tha devil _

_They always wanna dance_

Buffy took one second to realize that the small child who was being held at gun point was Val's little sister and another second to hear Val cry out 'NO!!' Instantly she grabbed the younger woman around the waist, pressing a hand over her mouth. Val struggled against the fierce grip but slayer strength won out. "Shut Up!" Buffy hissed into her ear. When the dark woman stopped struggling Buffy let go of her.

"Coward," Val spit out.

Buffy ignored her, as her eyes searched the room. "You listen to me. I need stakes. Lots of stakes. And a distraction."

Val studied the blonde. "That's my baby sister down there; I'd rather die than see her get hurt."

Buffy gave her a reassuring smile. "I know how you feel."

"Where's Spike?" Val asked.

"Shhhh," Buffy quieted her, sensing vampires approaching the balcony.

"Come with me," Val said, leading Buffy to the shadows. She presented a small window that led to lead to a vacant room. Once inside Buffy found a wooden chair and broke it into serviceable, stake-size pieces. She handed one to the brunette as she secreted the rest on her body. "Time to slay," She whispered.

"Hide until I tell you—I'll create a distraction," Val said, and with that pushed her neckline down and raised her already-short skirt. Buffy smiled. She had to admit, the girl used her figure to advantage. Val went ahead of her out of the room. Buffy stayed slightly behind, using the shadows for cover.

"Please, Senor, don't hurt her!" Risa cried out. Her youngest child sobbed in the arms of the vampire in full demonic form. He pressed the gun close to the little girl's head.

"Three seconds. If in three seconds I have no slayer, then you have no girl."

The crowd muttered indistinctly as they all wondered, 'Where is the Slayer? Why doesn't she come?' It began to part, as a woman moved through it and came into view.

She stood defiantly before the vamp holding the child.

"And who might you be?" he asked.

"Well,_ querido_, I'm the slayer."

--

_Now let me cut these niggas up  
And show'em where _  
_Tha f I'm comin' from _  
_I get tha party crackin' _  
_Wit tha sht that I be spittin' son _  
_Hit and run _  
_Get it done _  
_Get the funds _  
_Split and run. _  
_Got about 50 guns_

Spike felt nauseated. He watched in horror as Val walked up to the creature and claimed to be the slayer. He knew he had only seconds to do something. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the real slayer move into attack position, glaring at her adversaries. He implemented techniques Willow had taught him long ago. Staring at Buffy, he felt for the presence of her aura. She responded sharply to the mental touch, finding him in the shadows just as she was. They communicated through simple movements and began advancing upon the vampires.

--

"You're the slayer?" the vampire asked skeptically.

"Are you hard of hearing? What type of an impotent vampire are you?" she glared at him.

"Fine," The male said, smirking. "Bind her." The surrounding vamps reached out for the brunette.

"Valeria!!" Risa cried, as she watched in horror. But Sammy held her back and scanned the crowd for the two warriors.

Once bound and gagged, they lifted Val to take her to a white van.

"Thank you for the souvenirs. You lovely people continue to enjoy the party," The leader said as he shoved the little girl into the arms of her waiting mother.

"Please no," Felipe despaired, as he saw his sister being placed inside the van. As the engine turned over, a shadow jumped onto the roof, denting it.

The vampires looked around ready for a fight. Three silent seconds passed between the dented roof and the moment when the True Slayer dusted three vamps with one bow strike.

"The slayer!!" the leader cried out, as he pointed to the blonde in the dress.

As five more minions advanced on her, Spike jumped down from the roof and busted the doors of the van open. Val was knocked out and three vampires were protecting their claim.

"''ello there, boys. Don't fancy to share?" he sneered.

They recognized him in an instant and started backing up.

"Now that's just sad—none of you cocky? Wanna challenge me? Because if I just say 'Boo' and you all run off then it's just……boring," he said, as he brought out a piece of wood.

"It's him!!" one of them cried.

_And you really  
Don't wanna f wit me_  
_Only nigga that I trust is me_  
_F around and make_  
_Me bust this heat _  
_That's tha devil_  
_They always wanna dance_

Before they could say anything else, the master vampire dusted two of them quickly, leaving the last one for painful questioning.

"Please don't hurt me," the fledging cried as Spike approached him.

"Oh, I'm not gonna hurt you. Just kill you. Got over the torture bit long ago." He brought out his gun and shot the fledging in the leg.

The vampire cried out in pain. Then another bullet hit his stomach. "You said you wouldn't hurt me."

"Damn, I forgot, we don't die with bullets," Spike said, sarcastically.

"Stop, please!!" the creature said writhing on the floor.

"Who sent you?" he asked coming closer.

"Please, don't hurt me," He answered.

"Too late." The elder vampire answered and placed his boot-clad foot on top of the wounded leg. The vampire cried out in pain. "Who sent you?" Spike repeated.

"I can't say."

"Wrong answer." Another shot sang out as blood gushed from his shoulder.

"Please!!"

"Do I have to repeat myself or are you going to cooperate?" the blond vampire asked, lifting his boot from the leg. He squatted down before the wounded one.

"He'll kill me! Please don't make me say it."

"What I find amusing is that you think I'm not going to hurt you. Or kill you for that matter," He said, smiling.

"Ok,…I'll talk, but please…AHHHH!!" Spike poked his white finger into his

shoulder. "Chino,…he, he sent us. Said to kill you and bring the slayer. That's all I know. I swear!!"

Spike retrieved his finger and studied it. "So where's the old boy now?"

"I don't…AHHHH!!"

Spike started massaging the wound on his leg. "Feel better? Throat all clear?"

The vampire nodded enthusiastically. "Downtown, near the tunnels. That's all I know."

"Who else is working with him?" Spike prodded still not removing his hand from the wound.

"No one…AHHHH!!"

"Sorry, mate. What did you say?" Spike asked innocently.

"A woman. She's a bad ass. But we ain't seen her. I swear!"

"A woman? Chino working for a woman?" Spike asked skeptically.

"We've only heard her voice. Never seen her. Please stop!!"

"Ok, mate. You've been good enough." Spike stated, standing up and regarding the blood-clad figure.

"Thank you…"

But his words died on his mouth as a quick stake met his heart. Spike's face hardened as he saw Val lying on the floor. She had regained consciousness and had watched the entire display. Her face was filled with horror as she looked at Spike's bloody hands.

"What the hell were you thinking?" he demanded. "You could have been killed."

"They had Vanessa." She stated and started unbinding her hands.

"The slayer should have handled it. It's her job," He said angrily, as he bent down and cut the rope with his fangs. She watched him carefully.

"You tortured him," She said in awe.

"Yeah, well I am bad like that." He stopped and looked at her. She was horrified. "What's wrong, pet? Disappointed?"

"That's not you," She said quietly.

"On the contrary, darlin'. What you just saw was all me," he said as he stood her up and jumped out of the van.

--

Buffy held her balance as she dusted the last vampire on the ground. Sammy and Felipe wiped dust off themselves nearby.

Between the three of them they had taken care of the vampires. Some of the members of the party had also helped but she realized that these people knew what they were dealing with. Aside from a few scratches no one had been hurt. She had begun to worry about Spike when she heard the first gunshot, but she reminded herself that he was a 200 year old vamp—if Glory hadn't killed him, this was not a threat.

After surveying the damage she try to recuperate her dignity, but her dress was far from fixable and she was sure everyone had seen her panties.

She saw Risa huddled, clutching Vanessa tightly as the little girl wept.

"Hey now, you're ok," Buffy whispered as she squatted before the duo.

"Where's Spike?" the little girl said through her tears. Risa looked at her with pleading eyes."

"I'll find him. I am sure he's alright," Buffy said.

Risa gave her a grateful look as the slayer gave the little girl a last pat on the head and stood up to find the missing vampire.

It didn't take her long as she saw him jump off the back of the van. He reached in, and Val gratefully slid into his arms. He carried her to where Sammy was.

Buffy felt an uncomfortable pebble at the pit of her stomach, but brushed it away. The girl had guts. Val had almost gotten herself killed. She watched as Spike gently put her down in a chair.

'She must be hurt.' Buffy thought and made her way to the unlikely trio.

"Careful, papa," Val winced as her father pulled her shoe off.

"Small sprain--she should be good as new in no time." Spike replied as he checked his gun and placed it back on his leg strap.

He sensed Buffy approaching and turned to make sure she was ok. She was a mess. Her beautiful dress was torn and tattered. Her hair was a mess, and she was panting and sweaty, but he thought she looked beautiful.

"Slayer, how was this exercise?" he asked.

"Dandy, nothing like having people's lives in danger to speed up my metabolism." She replied smiling.

He knew that was a 'drop-dead-spike' smile. So he wiped the humor form the situation. "Anyone hurt?" he asked.

"Scratches and bruises, a traumatized child and a sprained ankle. Not bad." She wiped her hands with her dress—it was beyond repair now.

"Vanessa's ok?" he asked worriedly.

Buffy nodded. "She wants to know where you are."

Spike understood and reached for her arm. She looked up at him. Whatever he was going to say he meant business. "We need to talk," he stated.

She looked at him hard and nodded. This was not some random vamp attack-this had motive and funding. Someone was after her and they were willing to go through a lot of trouble to get her.

He pulled away and walked past her to find the child.

Buffy stared after him for a while and then brought back her attention to the hurt woman. Val's ankle was wrapped in a cold ice pack, to prevent swelling.

Buffy squatted next to her and searched the woman's face. "What you did was dangerous." She began. Val opened her mouth to protest but Buffy silenced her with a finger. "But incredibly brave. You did it for your sister. I would have done the exact same thing. A long time ago I did. I lost everything. So I wanted to thank you. I know we are not in the best terms, but if…if he cares for you the same way you care for him- then I hope you two are happy."

The words caused Buffy pain, but she didn't know why. For some reason or another she had begun to think that she and Spike had something. Now she realized they were only friends, and the past was gone-she must move forward as he had.

As she moved to stand up Val's hand reached out and pulled her down. "I am a woman. A simple woman. Before tonight I thought I could learn to live with someone like him. He is strong and intimidating, caring and understanding. But he is also a warrior. Chosen among his kind to do the work he does,….as are you. What he did tonight, you might find acceptable. But I can't. A man I love can't be off nightly with a price on his head. I want a life. A normal life. And that is something he can't give. But you. You're like him. The existence of the world is in your hands, and together it is better. When I was little and I was told your story—I wanted to be you so bad. When I met Spike I had a once in a lifetime opportunity to have that fairy tale. So I molded myself to be you. In the end, to fill your shoes takes much more than love for a family member—it takes love for humanity and that is something I don't think I have in me. But you do. The hero lies in you."

Buffy was taken back by her words. Instinctively she reached out and hugged the woman whom only minutes ago she'd wanted to hurt.

"Hey! What's this?"

Both women pulled out and turned to look at the peroxide blond who had the small child wrapped around him like a monkey. She was sucking her thumb as the tears dried her face.

"Vanessa Siomara Torro, take your fingers out of your mouth," Val said to her younger sister.

"Oh she'll be fine," Buffy said, standing up and taking the little girl's hand gently out of her mouth. The child whimpered and hid her tiny face in Spike's neck.

"Bit shy," he commented.

Buffy gave her a small smile. "Ready for that talk," she said, getting back to business.

"Good. It's going to be a long one."

--

"I still don't understand why we have to be involved with the mafia," Buffy protested. She had changed into more slayer-like apparel and was now ready to kick butt.

Spike had just finished telling Sammy, Felipe and Buffy the information he had gotten from the minion.

"Chino's family, the Castillos have always been stirring up trouble for the past slayers." Felipe explained. "When Tatiana's body was found, she had been branded with the seal of the castle."

"The Castle?" Buffy asked, confused.

"In English Castillo means castle, therefore she was branded as their kill. Jacobian demons tend to do this-the branding of their kill," Sammy finished for his son.

"Ok, so basically the big bad is someone who hired a group who already held a grudge towards us slayers?" she asked from where she was sitting on top of the table.

"Right. The problem is that we don't know of anyone bigger than Chino. I mean he's the top banana in the human world," Spike replied, studying his options.

"What if it's not human? What if we are going back to the basics of demons and dragons?" Buffy asked, looking at the worried vampire.

"Demons don't mix with humans."

'But Chino's not human," Buffy pointed out.

"Jacobian demons are descendants of Jacob, the son of Abraham as stated in the Jewish testament. They are part human and part hell-deceivers. That's why they're so good in the mafia. They deceive," Sammy explained patiently and as Buffy studied him he reminded her of Giles in his know-it-all tone.

"So were are dealing with some type of half-breed? Like a vampire only wiser since they have the soul of a human and are possessed by a demon." Buffy tried to cope. Spike nodded. "Great! I've had perfectly wonderful evenings. This wasn't one of them.".

"I've had worse," Spike said sadly.

That got her attention as she looked at him. His eyes were lost for a minute and he looked so sorrow-filled that it hurt to see. "I know," she said quietly.

"We need to research," Sammy said, breaking the melancholy.

"Call the card players?" Felipe asked.

There was silence. The players belonged to Spike and they were called only when they had to be. The vampire slowly rose. He nodded. "This isn't 'bout humans, this isn't 'bout Jacobians or minions. Something out there is watching us. Something un-human. Something bad, mad, and smart. Guess this is it. Whistler said The Slayer would be called back to fight the great battle." He turned to look at Buffy who was staring at him in wonder. "Guess your number's up, luv."

--

He walked shivering to the wooden doors that led to his demise ahead.

His fate was sealed. Tonight he would die--if they took mercy on him.

Two guards stood at each side of the wooden door and glared at him like a lab rat on doomsday.

As they say him approach they moved to the side. He gulped.

The room before him lay open and ready for his advance. But the advancing was the problem, so he just stood there looking at the cryptic glow given by the burning torches and the glimmer of the armed guards. The rich red carpet beneath his feet burned his shoe-clad feet and the reality of it all struck him. What he had done for five grand.

"Are you going to keep the majesty waiting, Diego?" a voice came from the front of the room. He knew that voice--it burned with venom and deceit.

He hardened, if he was going to die--he would die with honor and pride. He just prayed that he could keep both of those in his dying hour.

He was pushed forward with a metal lance. Trying not to stumble and make a further fool out of himself, he proceeded to the throne.

Before him lay the creature. She was lying on a bed, dressed in a silk red dress, having a pedicure.

She turned to look at him and smiled. It was an unnerving smile. A smile that tells you that you are close to the end. It was a smile of death.

"Hello Precious."

--

"Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength; loving someone deeply gives you courage"

Loa-Tzu

--

"Its a cold night."

Buffy turned to look at the approaching Spike. He was tired--she could tell.

"It's always a cold night," she responded and turned back to look over the mess that was now being cleaned up.

"We'll leave tomorrow after the players are called," he stated, and started walking away.

"Why?" she wondered in a low voice, not really expecting an answer.

But he heard her and paused. "I will not put their lives in danger. They might help me out once in a while, but I will not put children's lives in the line of fire. We fight on our own."

She turned to look at him. He was studying her. "We are loners, Slayer. You know that. No matter how much family we have, no matter how many friends we have. At the end of the day it's just us. Us cheating death. No one knows how we feel. Some say we have been chosen. Sometimes I wonder if we have been cursed. Walking worlds others can only begin to imagine," he smiled.

"We few..." she said sadly. "We unlucky few."

There was an uncomfortable silence as both looked out to the night-lit city.

"Normal is no longer an option for me, is it?" she asked.

"It never was."

She looked at him. "It's over. The dream of the white picket house and the kids and the normal husband with the 9 to 5 job. It's over. I don't even want it."

He gave her an understanding smile. "Chin up, pet. The day is not done yet."

She smiled and nodded. "So, tomorrow we leave?...Where?"

"My place," he said, lighting a cigarette.

"Spain?" she asked, confused.

"No, downtown, got me a nice penthouse. No one should be able to find us there. Plus, I own the building--we'll set up camp there."

"Seems sad," she said, looking back at the house.

"What does?" he asked, curious.

"You're leaving your family behind."

"They should be safe once we're gone. It's you an' me they're after." He blew out his smoke.

She though for a second. The frightened face of Vanessa came to view, the limping Val. The worried Risa. "We should leave as soon as possible."


	11. Talking to Myself

The World Below (100 Years of Solitude)

Talking To Myself- Part 11 of 100 yrs of Solitude (Races condemned to 100 yrs of solitude do not get a second opportunity on earth)

By: Isabelle

-Disclaimers: Title belongs entirely to Gabriel Garcia Marquez--just borrowing it for the sake of the story. Buffy, Spike, Whistler and all the memories belong to Joss and his crew. All other characters are entirely mine.

--

"Is the door shut?"

Felipe gave the iron door one last tug. It was impenetrable. He turned back to the blond and nodded.

"Good, let's begin then," Spike said, taking the last chair at the end of a long rectangular table. There were only five people in particular ever permitted in this room. Right now, there were only four present: the vampire, the slayer, Felipe, and the watcher Sammy. They all settled themselves at the table. The slayer sat at the vampire's right hand. With his left he reached out to an ancient looking red phone. He pulled dusty cobwebs from the receiver.

Buffy arched one eyebrow and looked at the phone skeptically. "This is a hundred years of scientific advancement?"

Spike glared at her. "This is a completely secure line. No one can hack into it. Not even the government knows we have it."

She smirked at him. "So where do you keep their numbers? On your very modern Palm Pilot?"

Spike took am unnecessary breath and looked at her. "Can we begin?"

"Whenever you're ready," Buffy said, pointing at the phone.

"Oh, thank you, so kind of you," he said flatly.

"Enough! Let's begin." Sammy demanded from his end of the table.

Spike nodded and picked up the receiver. Bringing it to his ear he dialed the first number--07.

They all waited. Buffy was startled to learn that the phone was on speaker so that the entire room could hear the call. Three rings, and no answer.

"Pick up, you pillock," Spike murmured.

Finally on the fifth ring a groggy male voice answered. "Somebody better be dead!"

"Somebody is dead!" Spike replied. There was a shuffle on the line.

"Baby, who is it?" a woman's voice came over the speaker.

"Shut up, _mami_, this is business," the man's voice responded. Buffy looked at Spike questioningly. "Spike-my-man, is that you?" the male started. "You know what time it is in L.A.? This is not cool, man."

"It's exactly 4:15 AM. So rise and shine darlin', time to kick ass." Spike said standing up.

"You serious? Holy Shit!"

"Mario, listen. I need you in Bogotá in forty-eight hours. So shag the bitch a couple of more times, get drunk and then get your sober ass over 'ere." Spike looked back at Buffy. "This is serious. Get your Nicaraguan ass down 'ere."

"Sure, man. Anything else?" asked Mario on the line.

"Yeah...bring some Chinese food." Spike hung up and the line went dead.

"Interesting," Buffy said.

"Right, a real page turner," Spike retorted.

"So this is whom the world depends on." Buffy eyed the red phone.

"The kid's the best at what he does," Spike insisted.

"And what is that? Being clueless?" She asked innocently.

Spike simply scowled at her and picked up the phone again. This time he dialed 08. The line was answered before the end of the first ring. "Hello, Spike. How are you sweetheart?" A sensuous female voice came over the speaker. Buffy frowned.

"'Ello Zeta. Good to see you're in shape." Spike smirked as the woman laughed.

"Well, you know me, darling. Always know what's going on." She paused. "We have a new slayer?" Spike replied in the affirmative. "I suppose you're going to say 'Be there in forty eight hours. It's important,'" she chuckled.

"You got it, pet." Spike smiled.

"No problem. Gotta do my hair first," Zeta replied.

"Good. I'll see you then?" Spike asked.

"You know the answer," she said in a low tone. He was about to hang up when

she spoke again. "Oh… and Spike?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't put me on the damn speaker--I hate that speaker."

Spike laughed softly as he lowered the receiver into its cradle. He glanced over at Buffy. "You didn't let me do my hair," she remarked innocently.

"Ha, bloody, ha," he replied.

--

After the sixth ring it was finally answered.

"The Master's residence." A shaky voice answered the phone.

"Tell the 'master' that the master is on the line." Spike said as he twirled a pen on his finger.

"Master Spike?"

"Put Troll on the line, Jacob. How much is Troll paying you to call 'im master?" Spike asked curiously.

"Nothing sir. He is a master," There was a pause as Spike cleared his throat. "Ok fine, twenty extra a week. You want to talk to him or not?"

"Put 'im on the bloody line." Spike roared. Buffy giggled as she heard the minion scurry off in fright.

"Poofter." Spike mumbled under his breath.

"Is he a vampire?" Buffy asked.

Spike placed his hand over the mouthpiece. "A Wizard."

Buffy's eyes went wide and she nodded impressed. "Those are always good to have around."

"Spike?" the chilly older voice asked into the speaker.

"'Ello old boy. Ready for some action?"

"Say the time, say the place and I am there, master," Troll said eagerly.

"For Christ's sake, stop calling me master!"

"Yes, Master!"

Spike growled into the phone. "Be in Bogotá within 48 hours and bring all that hocus pocus you carry around."

"Yes, Mas...I mean Spike. I'll be there, you can count on me, whenever you..." Spike hung up on the all too eager player. Buffy suppressed a laugh. Spike turned to look at her, his eyes narrowing. "What?" he barked at her.

"Nothing...master." With that the whole group began to laugh. Spike growled at them. "Bloody Bongara demons."

--

Two rings and a pickup.

"These are the offices of Lui Incorporated. How may I direct your call?" the operator asked.

"Lucy Tao," Spike responded.

"Right away, sir."

"Thanks," Spike muttered.

"Have a good day!"

Spike frowned. Everyone was way too happy for his liking. There were three more rings before the line was answered. An accented female voice came on the speaker.

"Lucy speaking," she said.

"Luv, do me a favor," Spike said, smiling. "Tell me what you're wearing?"

The line went dead. Spike looked at the receiver in shock. "Still see that you have your way with the ladies," said Sammy, reclining back on his chair.

All the occupants in the room jumped as the phone rang. Spike stared at it as if it were a barking dog. Finally Buffy reached over and picked up the phone and shoved it at him.

Spike began tentatively but was cut off by an angry female voice. "Under section 569.21 of the Player's Handbook, third paragraph from the bottom it clearly states the government's view on sexual harassment in the work place. Cross that line again, Batman, and the only players you'll be watching will be the Yankees loosing the pennant."

Spike smirked. "So you recognized me?"

"Well, let me see. You're the only idiot who calls a computer hacker from an unauthorized line that leads straight to Columbia- "Hi! Sammy!"- then has the iron balls to ask a woman with PMS what the hell she's wearing. So I would say, 'yeah, I know who the idiot is'. Does that answer your question, 'pet'?"

Buffy loved this woman.

"Lucy, that's no way to talk to your boss."

"Really? I didn't read _that_ in the handbook. Cut the chitchat, Spike. When and where?"

Spike sighed. "Bogotá, forty eight."

"See you then, deadboy." she paused "And Spike?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm naked." The line went dead.

Spike stayed with the phone at hand.

"Well, so much for sexual harassment." Buffy said taking the receiver and placing it down.

--

/RING/

/RING/

"Ma, ah heard ya!" The man's voice said into the phone.

"I ain't your bleedin' mother, Dalton," Spike hissed at the man.

"Spike! Well ah'll be damned!" he said "How ya doing, son?"

Spike massaged his temples in frustration. "Whatever happened to the professionalism?"

"Sorry 'bout dat. I liked to get carried away hearing yuh voice. Lawd knows I ain't been called in a long time."

"Thanks for the sentiment, Dalton," Spike said sarcastically. "Now, listen up."

"Ah' m all ears, man."

"I need your big black ass in Bogota. You've got forty eight hours get your shit together, do whatever you need to do, just be on time." Spike hissed into the phone.

"Forty-eight hours? Guess I oughta git in a lil bit a good home cookin' afor I go. Lawd knows what shit you be feedin us there. Ain't you got no woman to cook for you yet? Shee-it. You jes' about as skinny as a twig." He laughed on the other end, and Buffy couldn't keep herself from smiling. She already liked this man immensely.

"You know it, mate. Now remember--forty-eight. Not sooner not later, understand?"

"Ah sure does."

"Good, and Dalton?"

"Yeah?"

"Bring me some of that 'home cookin'."

--

"Ok, one last one," Sammy said, flipping through his notes.

Buffy was completely enjoying this. These people were so normal, yet completely aware of the seriousness of their entire situation. They reminded her of her friends from so long ago.

Spike was pacing the room and smoking two cigarettes at the time. Buffy looked over at him curiously. "What's wrong?" she asked, concerned.

"Nothin' wrong, why would anything be wrong?" he asked, snapping out of his trance.

"Well, considering that you're chain smoking and pacing I would say something's on your mind." She leaned back in her chair.

"Right, just a bit tense, that's all." Spike said. He stubbed out his cigarette on the cement floor.

"Who's left?" Felipe asked his father.

Sammy took a deep breath and looked at Spike. "Loret."

Something in the way that Sammy said the name made Buffy uncomfortable and almost dreading this woman.

"Right. So call her Sammy," Spike said almost blending into the shadows of the room.

Buffy arched her eyebrow at him. Something was definitely off.

"What, are you joking Spike?" Felipe intervened. Sammy stopped him and looked at the paler- than-usual Spike.

"We can do this later, amigo," Sammy suggested.

"Who's Loret?" Buffy finally asked.

"She's a...well she's kinda...you see the thing is..." Spike stuttered.

"She's your ex?" Buffy asked, trying to help him finish the sentence.

Spike looked down at the floor. "Yeah."

"I see," Buffy had found out in the past few days more than she cared about Spike's multiple partners.

There was an uncomfortable silence in the room until Spike finally took a took a deep breath, sat down to pick up the phone, and dialed her number: 666. On the fourth ring it was answered.

"This is Loret, sex goddess. What part of your body may I kiss today?" the sultry female voice said into the phone.

Spike exhaled, "My ass."

There was a silence on the line and Buffy braced herself.

"Spike??" she cried.

"'ello, pet. How..."

"You've got a lot of balls calling me here! You son-of-a-bitch!!"

"Pet, listen."

"Don't you dare 'pet' me!! Take your fangs and stick 'em up your ass."

She hung up. Buffy stared at the receiver in Spike's hand. He was annoyed and embarrassed. She could only imagine what he had done to make this woman so angry. Spike took another breath and dialed the diabolic number again. It was picked up before the first ring even finished.

"Listen blood breath, you're probably calling me to help you save the world. Well newsflash, white cardboard, I don't play anymore. I quit!!"

"You can't bloody well quit, Loret. This is business," Spike roared, as he stood up.

"Well it's always business with you, isn't it, _William_. Well I have two words for you darlin'; fuck and you."

"Don't you dare hang up!" Spike hissed so dangerously it even made Buffy shiver. She went silent. "Do you feel better after your insult-the-Spike-parade?" he asked. He didn't wait for her to answer. "I am serious Loret, get yourself and the wardrobe that I bought you to Bogota in forty eight hours."

"You can forget about it, Spike. I am not showing, you ca..."

"Tatiana was murdered."

She went silent. "When?" asked a tight voice.

"Couple of days ago." He paused. "You're going to cooperate or not?"

The room went so quiet Buffy could almost hear her own heartbeat.

"See you in 48hrs." She hung up.

Spike let out a sigh of relief. "Well, that went well," he muttered under his breath.

"Yeah, definitely," Felipe said nodding. He avoided Spike's gaze. Buffy snorted.

--

The smell coming from the well-lit kitchen was intoxicating Buffy's nostrils. It was rich and heavy, filling the large patio behind the large kitchen where Risa and her mother Lourdes worked on the stew. Buffy thought about her mother. Mom had liked to cook, but never had she cooked like this. Lourdes took the vegetables from the small garden out back. The plot was small, but incredibly varied. There was fresh corn, cilantro, achiote, potatoes, yams, cabbage, pumpkin, and more green and red vegetables she couldn't pronounce. She couldn't stop herself from asking questions.

Now she watched as the elder woman tossed diced green vegetables in a wooden vase. Buffy was eager to know what it was called.

"This is a _pilon_. It is used to crush the greens and extract their juice to add flavor to the _guiso_," The white haired woman explained, smiling at Buffy's eagerness.

Buffy was confused. _Pilon_ was a hard enough word but now she had another. "What's a _guiso_?"

"A _guiso_ is a stew. But not your regular stew. This has everything from pig's feet, to mashed plantains and lots of _viandas_."

"Okay…what's a _vianda_?" She asked.

"These are _viandas_. They are South American potatoes and yams. They taste different and are boiled instead of baked. You eat them with tuna and in stews. The little ones love them. Hardly any taste but filled with nutrition." She smiled.

Lourdes began pounding the pilon and Buffy watched in wonder as she brought the wooden stick back and forth and crushed the greens inside the wooden bowl.

This entire world fascinated her, the mere scent of it was intoxicating. She had noticed that the women had round plump bodies that the men loved. When Risa first saw her, she'd commented that she thought Buffy didn't eat. But when she told the woman that she did eat, she just had to watch her figure, Risa had laughed at her. She'd said something along the lines of "los hombres le gusta la carne" (men like meat). Buffy had flushed three shades of pink when Spike told her what it meant. _Damn_. Back home she was too fat, here she was too skinny. This entire situation was complicated enough, without bleeding over into worry about her dress size.

Watching Lourdes beat the greens she began to smell the aroma coming from the wooden bowl.

"Smells good, no?" the woman asked. Buffy nodded. "Do you want to try?" the woman asked, holding out the bowl.

Buffy's smile fell and she shrank away. The most she had cooked at home was an occasional waffle, but those came pre-made--the frozen variety. She remembered the disaster that Thanksgiving--no one had mentioned it but she knew the Turkey was drier than the Sahara and the gravy was rejected even by Spike. She shuddered.

"No thanks. I think it's better if I watch."

"Don't be afraid. Come. I'll teach you," the woman insisted.

Buffy was not about to be rude to the people who were offering her such hospitality, so she reluctantly took the wooden stick from the woman's greased hand. _Just like a stake_. She thought.

"Now you hold the bowl with your left hand--securely so it won't move, then you bring down the _pilon_ and smash the greens gently but firmly. Remember your strength and know when to use it. If you use the strength of the slayer--you'll break the wood. Gently but firm, like a woman should be," she said, as she stepped back and allowed Buffy to prepare the _condimentos_.

"Gently but firm," Buffy repeated as she brought the pilon down and crushed the vegetables. She almost closed her eyes, afraid that she had broken the family tool. But to her surprise she didn't. Not only did she not break it, but now she was moving in a steady pattern, crushing the recado, garlic and oregano beneath the stick.

She smiled at her success. "I am cooking," she breathed out.

The woman laughed gently. "I learned how to cook when I was seven years old. Papa always insisted that a lady should know how to cook for her husband." She began, dicing the onions next to Buffy on the outdoor counter. "But I didn't learn to cook for my husband--I learned to cook for my daughters."

"But I thought that Risa was an only child," Buffy said conversationally.

Lourdes smiled and got a far away look on her face. "My other daughter, Alexandra. She was a slayer, like you. She died young at the age of 28."

Buffy stopped what she was doing and stared at the woman in shock. "Your daughter was a slayer?"

"Yes. And when she died my husband and I spent the rest of our lives working for the council, who is now William."

"You're the mother of a slayer," Buffy re-stated in awe.

Lourdes nodded. "She died rescuing a child from a demon. She died a hero's death. All slayers die heroes. I am very proud of her, as I am sure your mother was."

Buffy looked down as tears slipped down her cheeks. "My mother died a month before I died."

"She must have been proud of you," she said, lightly touching Buffy's arm.

Buffy smiled in spite of her flowing tears. "I don't know. I don't think she even knew I loved her. I think I disappointed her somehow."

Lourdes turned her arm so Buffy would look down at the elder woman. She shook her head and reached out to clean Buffy's tears with her apron. The apron smelled of garlic and pepper as it gently across her face.

"All mothers are proud of their daughters. We might not always say it, but we are. And those of us who are privileged to bear a slayer, is the greatest gift of all. Night by night you go out and put your life on the line so that simple people might live another day. You battle the forces of darkness and at times feel more alone than anyone else. But we are never disappointed. On the contrary- it's everything a mother can hope for. Pure selfless sacrifice," she almost whispered.

Buffy had stopped crying and stared into the woman's black eyes sparkling with life and love. The wrinkles around her brows were lifted in understanding and compassion. "Thank you," Buffy whispered.

"Come here." The woman pulled Buffy into a tight loving hug. Buffy almost melted into her warm affection. This woman she had only just met, did not feel like a stranger. "You're family now, therefore I am Nita," she said.

Buffy pulled away and smiled at her. "Thank You, Nita." The woman just smiled.

"Smells good."

Buffy looked up to find Spike, smiling at the sight. Vanessa asleep in his arms, wrapped around him; legs hugging his waist and little arms clutching at his neck. Her wild brown curls were fanned out over his chest as her little face rested peacefully against his shoulder.

Lourdes chuckled as the vampire approached them, "She's crazy about you, William."

"Well, I am kinda fond of the lil' bit myself," he replied. His gaze drifted over to the wooden bowl Buffy had been using. He looked up at her face and saw the red eyes beneath her lashes.

"What's wrong, pet?" he asked. Before Buffy could brush it off Lourdes cut in.

"Oh nothing, girl talk." she said smiling at Buffy. She returned the smile gratefully and Spike just shrugged.

"I am fine, Spike. We were just cooking." Buffy said trying to brighten the mood.

"Cooking?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. There was trepidation in his voice.

"Yes, cooking," she replied

"Pet, you remember last time you cooked? I couldn't even eat the gravy," he said.

"You're one to talk. Your dinner will be served in a mug," Buffy replied defensively.

Spike scowled at her.

"I'll have you know that I always eat her meals," he said, gesturing at the other woman." She's the best cook in the world."

"Paren! (Stop!)" Lourdes cried out, before the discussion could go any further. "Out of the kitchen, William. Shoo, out you go. Buffy is going to learn how to cook and you will eat her food."

Spike had known Lourdes since she was in her early twenties. He knew better than to anger her.

Buffy, bemused by this defense, smiled brightly at Spike. He was taken back; she didn't often grin like that. Shaking his head at them, he headed out.

"Bloody women," he muttered.

--

"We'll leave tonight after dinner." Spike told Sammy.

"Is it safe?" he asked worried.

"Safe as ever. We can't spend another night here. You know I wish I could, but I can't. Not without the players. Once we set up base I might send some protection over 'ere. Meanwhile I have to hide the Slayer. She's used to her small town and her vampires. She's not aware of the global dangers that threaten us daily. Once the players arrive her training will begin."

"You're going to start her with the basics?" Sammy asked, sitting down in his large leather chair.

"No, she can do the basics; you saw 'er. She just needs weapons training and maybe some of that mojo matrix shit that Loret does. We have no idea what's coming. The powers went to a hell of a lot trouble getting 'er back. They didn't call her back for a stroll in the park." Spike said exhaling the smoke from his cigarette.

Sammy thought for a while and brought his own illegal cigar to his mouth. "I've seen better days."

Spike chuckled at the man, "You and me both."


	12. Life of Fire, Heat, Desire

Life of Fire, Heat, Desire- Part 12 of 100 yrs of Solitude (Races condemned to 100 yrs of solitude do not get a second opportunity on earth)

Life of Fire, Heat, Desire- Part 12 of 100 yrs of Solitude (Races condemned to 100 yrs of solitude do not get a second opportunity on earth)

By: Isabelle

-Disclaimers: Title belongs entirely to Gabriel Garcia Marquez--just borrowing it for the sake of the story. Buffy, Spike, Whistler and all the memories belong to Joss and his crew. All other characters are entirely mine. Lyrics belong to Leanne Rimmes and are being used without permission.

--

_Look at the sky  
Tell me what do you see  
Just close your eyes  
And describe it to me_

Her heart felt heavy as they said their goodbyes. Something wasn't right--perhaps Spike was right and they had to get out of here as soon as possible. She hated to put these people's lives in danger. It wasn't right. The sun was setting slowly leaving a warm orange glow on the earth

She loved the sun. But it was so rare here in the future, only for a little while she was happy to see its rays.

Sammy had taken both warriors to retrieve some weapons after the fantastic dinner that even Spike had to admit was wonderful.

The guiso had indeed left them satisfied and content.

Buffy kissed Risa's cheek, learning the custom, as she said goodbye to the older woman. She could see Spike, from the corner of her eye, prying Vanessa from his neck so he could say goodbye to Junior.

He squatted before the young boy.

"When will you be back?" he asked.

"Soon, I promise." Spike says, tousling the boy's brown hair.

"That's what you said last time." he replied sadly.

"Listen, keep this," he said handing him a coin.

"What is it?" Junior replied in wonder.

"It's a 2005, special edition United States quarter. It's the state of California, were the original Scooby Gang came form."

"Wow," the young boy said in wonder, as he stared at the old currency.

"You keep that and remember that I'll always come back."

Junior looked at him with sparkling green eyes and hugged the vampire with all his strength. "You're my favorite hero."

Spike was taken back by his comment. He knew he was no hero, mostly selfish at times. Treating the woman that he loved...loved? He pondered this thought as he hugged the boy back. His brain raced at full speed as he processed the information he had just admitted to himself.

This young child thought him a hero, when he really wasn't living up to his end of the bargain. His heart felt heavy. He had never felt more like Angel, in the old days, than he did at this moment.

As he pulled back Spike stood and patted Junior's head. "You take care of your family--you're a big boy now. I expect nothing else."

Junior saluted and smiled. "Yes sir!"

"Good," he said, nodding and turned to Val who was sitting on the porch swing with her ankle wrapped in gauze.

"Don't give him false hopes, Spike," she said as he approached.

He smiled at her. "Don't believe I'll be back, pet?"

"No, not really," she said smiling. "Well, at least not for a couple of years."

"It's going to be different now," He said, kneeling before the girl.

"Good," she said lightly, "Take care of her, vampire. Don't make me come up there and beat you senseless."

Spike smiled at her spark and leaned forward to kiss her cheek. Feeling her tense under him he pulled back quickly and stood up even faster.

"See you then," he said as he turned towards Buffy who was waiting by the Dukati.

"Ride carefully, William," Risa said as she put her arm around Junior.

"Yes, this baby can reach 200 easily. Just remember to be careful," Sammy said studying the motorcycle that was going to be used for their transport. Spike had left it in Sammy's garage the last time he came. The bike was a one of a kind, fully modified with all the extras and ready to be tested with all the additions Sammy had installed in his free time.

"Don't worry 'bout it. I'm a careful driver," Spike said, taking one of the black helmets and handing the other to Buffy who had a sulky statement.

"What's wrong, pet?" he asked her as he adjusted the helmet on his head.

"Isn't this dangerous?" she asked referring to the bike.

"Yup," he replied and straddled the seat.

"Why don't we get a car?" she asked hopefully.

"Just hold on, pet. The danger's half the fun," he said, smirking under the black visor.

She sighed and placed her own helmet on, adjusting it to her smaller head. Straddling the bike she tentatively wrapped her arms tight around him.

His gloved hand went over hers and he looked back at her. "Hold on tight." he warned her.

She gulped pressing her chest fully on his back as she wrapped her arms tight arms tight around him.

He smiled. Feeling her heaving breasts at his back was not bad, not bad at all.

Saluting to Sammy he turned on the bike and within two seconds they were speeding off into the sunset.

_The heavens are sparkling  
With starlight tonight  
That's what I see  
Through your eyes_

--

The breeze hit her face with a gentle yet firm caress, as she marveled at the beauty of the coast. Spike had taken a back way just in case they were being followed.

They were traveling next to a small mountain that had a small highway coiled around it, as the sun set in the ocean next to them. This was rare. Here she was on motorcycle , in an exotic country, riding into the sunset with a man she, well, she respected and admired for what he had become.

The thought made her tighten her hold on him unconsciously.

At the feel of her light squeeze, Spike's hand went out and wrapped firmly around her smaller ones, relishing the warmth that went through his gloved hand.

Buffy relaxed against his muscled back, savoring in the feel of comfort and security. She would have never thought--not in a million years--that she would be enjoying this quiet time with Spike.

_I see the heavens  
Each time that you smile  
I hear your heartbeat  
Just go on for miles_

The ride wasn't long they were long. They were soon past the rural part of the country and into the urbanized area of Bogotá. There weren't many people outside. Most knew to take cover in a safe place when the threat of the night came. Riding through the streets of Bogotá, Spike stopped in front of a rather expensive looking building.

Extracting a remote-like object from his coat he pointed it at the base of the building. Buffy watched wide-eyed as the bottom part opened to reveal a secret garage entrance.

"Doors come and go so quickly here." she murmured under her breath.

Once they were inside Buffy jumped off the bike and stretched her sore muscles.

"You ok?" he asked her as he removed his helmet. She nodded under hers.

When she began to pull at the straps, she choked herself instead of undoing them.

Spike moved rapidly and within seconds had Buffy free of her helmet, letting her long blonde hair cascade to her shoulders.

"Thanks." she murmured as she raked her hand through her tousled hair. He took both helmets and secured them on the bike before turning to close the hidden garage door.

"C'mon," He said, opening a door to the inside of the building. She gladly followed him out of the dark garage and onto an elevator. Quickly he pressed the up button and the door answered by closing.

Fifteen flights later the doors opened to a well decorated white hall. A mirror faced them as the elevator doors opened and she was startled to find only herself looking back.

She cursed herself internally. She could easily forget that the man with her was a vampire. A creature of the night who cheated the rules of fate by wearing a ring.

Following him down the hall they came upon a large tinted glass door that Spike unlocked by pressing his thumb on a scanner.

"Welcome, Mr. Rawlings. Make yourself at home."

Spike winced at the electronic reply. He had forgotten about that.

A small smile played on Buffy's mouth "Rawlings?" she asked amused.

"William Rawlings." he murmured as they went through the door.

It closed automatically behind them, and again Spike pressed his thumb on the interior scanner to lock it.

Buffy turned her attention to the penthouse. It looked like it had fallen out of an interior decorator's magazine. The furniture and walls were of neutral colors of white, cream, eggshell, light browns, and light olives. It looked nothing like she would have imagined it to look.

The color scheme gave it a more elegant look, as if you wouldn't dare touch anything.

Spike smiled as she inspected the apartment. He really didn't like this place and had considered giving it to Val when she got married. He felt it was too impersonal-- nothing here told anyone it belonged to him.

"Like?" he asked her as he took off his leather coat and gloves. She turned to him and almost smiled. "It looks nothing like you." she said.

"I know." he agreed. "Just a place to crash while I'm 'ere."

"As far as places to crash goes, it's really not that bad," she said looking over an abstract painting hanging on the hall of the foyer.

"Let me show you to your room." he responded and went past her to the living room, which had a window for a wall.

"Good thing you have that ring. It seems to me you have a thing for windows," she said, indicating the expansive night sky.

"Well I am also protected by a spell." he responded going down the hall to where the two bedrooms were located.

"A spell?" she asked, interested, as she followed him.

"Yeah," he said over his shoulder. "The powers gave me a two minute warning, you know, if I'm caught in the line of fire."

"So you have two minutes before you combust if you don't have the ring?"

"Somethin' like that." he stopped in front of the first door and opened it. "There's only one bathroom, and that's in my bedroom so feel free to use it."

She nodded and entered her room. It was not as big as the one in Spain, or the one at Sammy's but it was large with a full bed in the middle of the room and a single large window.

"I'll be in my room, in case you need anything. There's no food in the fridge so when you get hungry let me know. We'll go out and get something. Telly's on the living room, plenty of tapes, so feel free to roam. I've gotta make some phone calls so..."

She stared at him. "Thank you." She came closer and he felt her heat radiate towards him. "I hate to be a bother, you know, taking me every where and..."

"You're not a bother, Buffy."

She stared at him, his blue eyes trying to dodge her gaze. He had just called her Buffy.

"It's good to have company for once," he said ducking his head and shifting his feet.

She smiled as she saw the traces of the Spike she had left behind so long ago.

He hated himself for shrinking like this in front of her. Hated her even more for making him like this.

"I know what it's like to feel alone," she said sadly as she sat on her white bed.

"No, you don't. You've always had your mates to hover all over you like a prized possession. Had your mum', and nibblet, the watcher, and the Scoobies to help you out. You've never been alone so stop the pitiful tirade."

She smiled up at him. "But who do I have now. Here you're with me now but who am I going to be with in a week, when your work with me is done?"

He swallowed hard at her words. Walking towards her he placed his coat on top of her bed and knelt before her.

She felt her cheeks turn light pink under his intense gaze. "Still afraid of being alone?" he asked her.

His hand fell on top of her tightly clenched ones.

"Aren't you?" she counter-replied.

"Not afraid," he said almost indignant.

She scowled at him. "Yes, you are. You just hide it better than me."

"Yeah, well I also admit things better than you."

Buffy almost jumped to reply but a cool white finger pressed lightly against her parted lips.

"Shh" he whispered. Their eyes locked as she could feel herself drowning in his gaze, his eyes dark blue darkened in seconds.

"One day at a time." he said. "When tomorrow comes, you'll know what to do then."

She shivered against the coolness of his skin pressed against her heated flesh.

_And suddenly I know  
My life is worth while  
That's what I see  
Through your eyes _

He felt her desire rise, and panic hit him like a truck as he stood abruptly, breaking the moment.

Grabbing his coat he hastily trotted to the door. "I'll be in my room in case you need me."

As he closed the door behind him, all trace of him left her. All of him except the still burning feel of his finger against her lips.

--

Spike paced his room, back and forth until he was almost dizzy with his own motion sickness. Sighing he sat on the edge of his bed, shoulders slumped with a defeated look on his face.

He was in love with her again.

_Damn_. He cursed himself. It didn't take a scientist to figure that out. There she stood telling him he was the only one she needed. Just like that fateful night so long ago.

_"I am counting on you to protect her." She told him, looking more sincere than he had ever seen her._

_"'Till the end of the of the world, even if that happens to be tonight." he had answered, puffing his chest with gallant pride. She had understood and accepted his love for both her and her sister._

He shook himself from his brooding and lay on the bed, stretching his sore muscles.

No wonder she was confused. Last time they had talked they were at a friendship level, far gone form the reluctant allies deal, or the stalker-stalkee position. He was with her because he loved her and she had accepted his offer.

Lost in his memories his eyes drifted closed and the exhaustion on his dead body took over his senses.

_He felt as if he was floating, on a cloud of some sort. Above civilization, in a surreal way._

_He was unafraid, almost expectant, as if he knew something was going to happen. A sharp light flashed before his eyes and the next thing he knew he was in front of a white door with a silver handle._

_Tentatively he wondered if the oracle wonder twins had called him to their presence. Good, been meaning to talk to 'hem blocks for a while. _

_As he pushed the door open, her squinted at the bright light in the room, an eerie green light that glowed and hung on the atmosphere. He shivered._

_"Hello?" he asked as he entered the room. It was completely empty except for the green glow that hung around him. "Wonder Twins?"_

_He walked further into the room "No need to intimidate me, mate. Been 'ere before."_

_Nothing happened. Something was off, his vampiric senses could feel it, crawling on his sin like spider webs. It was an unearthing feelings, almost as if he was being caressed._

_Real fear hit him as the green glow started gathering together and forming a shape. A human shape. As it materialized he was ready to hit the door and grab a ride on his cloud but the presence made him freeze in his position._

_He watched in horror as the last bits and composites of the glow formed a coalesced into a complete human form. And after seventy years she stood before him._

_Dawn._

_Her long brown hair cascaded down her shoulders, melting onto her white floor-length dress. He gasped. She looked heavenly, too pure for a demon like him to touch._

_"Nibblet?" he asked almost scarred that she would disintegrate again._

_She smiled at him and held her arms open._

_The frozen fear that had held his body in place melted into love for this girl and he rapidly ran to her arms. All of a sudden, she was fourteen again and depending on him for her dear life._

_He inhaled her scent as he held her slim well formed body against his. "Oh baby, I've missed you so much." he whispered into her brown locks._

_She held him tighter and lightly brushed her hair with her hand. He could have melted right there and then. She was his girl and no one was going to hurt her._

_They stood there for what seemed like hours, some of the best moments in his un-life._

_But he knew it wasn't real. This was an illusion, an alternative universe, a place of forgetting._

_"Spike?" she asked as she pulled back a little. He looked at her wide blue eyes that cried out trust and companionship._

_He could only stare at her. She was still beautiful and still glowing with a supernatural green air._

_"I've missed you," she said almost in a whisper, her delicate white hands tracing the outlines of his jaw. _

_"Missed you too, sweet pea." he whispered back, smiling at her shining blue orbs._

_"I am happy for you Spike. Take care of her for me. She needs you now, Spike, and you need her." She pressed her head on his chest and he cradled her like he did so many years ago. _

_He sighed in happiness._

_He wrapped his arms tighter around her, relishing in these few moments. "I love you Spike, you know that don't you?"_

_He nodded and kissed the top of her head. "Love you too, baby."_

_"Good. Now let my love guide you," she said, pulling back from his embrace "Learn to love again." _

_Before he knew it she had kissed his cheek and disappeared._

_"Dawn!!" he cried out into the empty space. But the cold room laughed at his insanity. "Dawn!!" he half screamed, half sobbed_

_"Please!!" _

_"Dawn!!"_

He was woken by someone shaking him roughly until his head bobbed back and forth.

"Wake up!"

He opened his eyes in alarm.

"Spike, you ok?"

He focused to find Buffy staring at him with concerned eyes. His first instincts was to brush her away, but the memories of his dream floated into his thoughts. From depts. he couldn't control he chocked back a sob. He had lost his little girl again.

Buffy was startled as the half naked man in front of her crumbled into shaking sobs. She had heard him screaming her sister's name and had rushed in to find him sweating and writhing in emotional pain.

Without thinking twice she wrapped her thin strong arms around the vampire whose face was buried in his hands and started to shush his troubles and pain.

The more she comforted him the more he cried. The gut-wrenching sobs echoed in the large room, and Buffy winced as it got worse and worse.

She didn't know how long she held him, nor how long he cried, but when she felt his sobs turn into whimpers, she laid him back down on his bed. Spike curled himself into a ball and Buffy reacted by climbing in bed with him and spooning him against her.

She didn't question why she was being compassionate. This man had gone from warmth to coldness in a blink of an eye, but here she was supporting him like he had supported her only days ago on the plane.

_Here in the night  
I see the sun  
Here in the dark  
Our two hearts are one_

--

Spike woke up to find himself uncharacteristically warm. Two soft mounds pressed against his back and little firm hands held his waist.

He felt the tickling sensation of long soft hair on his neck, and he knew something was off.

He stirred to wake but found that his eyes were burning and dry.

His movements woke her immediately. Propping herself up on an elbow she pulled his back down.

He blinked, but the dryness in his eyes was preventing him from opening his eyes.

"Need drops?" Buffy asked him.

"Bathroom, bottom drawer." he responded, almost ashamed that he had presented such a spectacle in front of her.

He felt her rise from the bed and it took only seconds for her to come back. She pressed on his forehead so he would lean back an with her fingers opened his right lid.

Spike felt complete relief as the water droplet moistened the dryness and was even more grateful when he was able to blink both eyes.

"Better?" she asked.

He looked up at her, her hair lightly cascading over his face, brushing his lips lightly.

"Yeah," he said.

"Bad dream?" she asked concerned.

He closed his eyes, remembering the feel of Dawn in his arms.

"No a good dream,...too good to wake up." he sighed at the memories.

Surprising him, she lowered herself until her head rested on his bare chest. After a moment of awkward silence he cradled her to him pressing their bodies together.

"Was it about Dawn?" she asked.

He looked down to her head and swallowed, remembering the girl's words.

"Yup, lil' bit likes to torment me in dreams," he said softly.

Buffy smiled remembering how annoying she had once considered her little sister.

"Tell me a story." she replied softly.

Spike stiffened with confusion--that and trying to ignore that she was cradled against his bare chest. Her breath tickled his nipples lightly.

_It's out of our hands  
We can't stop what we have begun  
And love just took me by surprise  
Looking through your eyes _

"A story?" he asked amused.

"About my friends, you know, after I..."

"Died?" he finished for her.

He let her process and accept that her friends, though pained over her death, had gone on with their lives.

"Yeah."

He sighed and brought the thick quilt around her body as she snuggle closer to him. For some reason the coolness from his body warmed her with familiarity. It was beyond her; Why was she in bed with him? Why was she bonding? Why was she being nice?

Her thoughts were interrupted as he shifted to make them more comfortable.

"Ok, well..." he began "There was this one time, 'bout when Dawn was seventeen. Was she seventeen?...Yeah she was, I remember she was all giddy 'bout her graduating. So anyways she had a big date with this bloke named Marcus. I didn't particularly like the whelp, he was a bit skirmish--if you know what I mean--so anyways, the Wiccas were fusing over what she going to wear. Anya was introducing her to the world of contraceptives while I protested wildly in the background. Giles was just a mass of nerves and Xander was in denial, still saying that she was in love with him--not a quivering 17yr old. So when 'the day' came and the poor bloke showed up, he wished he had picked a different girl. I mean think 'bout it. Two powerful witches, an ex-demon, a former Ripper, a Zeppo, and a vampire who claimed protection over 'their. She nearly died of embarrassment as we barked at the kid for nearly half an hour.

She made me promise not to follow--but I followed anyways. I thought I was alone until I realized all the Scoobies followed her also. We thought we where being squeaky, all quiet and in the bushes, but lil' bit had grown up in the battle field. She spotted us and was madder than a bull. She confronted us accusing us of not trusting her, and we were guilty as charged. So that's the moments a giant spider decides to attack the high school hangout. So Scoobies to the rescue and by the time we kill it, Dawn was completely mortified. The bloke Marcus never called again--broke 'er heart. But me and Harris caught up to 'im and showed him how to treat a lady." He smiled reliving the memory.

He was thrown back to the present by the wet feel of her tears on his bare chest. "Pet?"

He pulled her head back and she looked at him with a smile and tears. "That must have been wonderful. I wish I could have..."

She couldn't go on, not being there with her friends, with her sister on her big day. It was a hard blow on the gut.

He wiped the tear tracks from her cheeks and let himself drown in the sorrow of her eyes. "You were with us. Whenever we fought, there you were--your presence never left us. Why else would we have jumped to save the hormone population of Sunnyhell?"

"I know but I wish that it was really me." she looked back at him. "I am seeing it all through your eyes."

_I look at myself  
And instead I see us  
Whoever I am now,  
It feels like enough_

Spike's body felt like it was on fire, a fire that swept from his toes to the tips of his bleached hair. He took an unnecessary breath as he watched her mouth descend upon his.

The kiss was light, almost like the last one she had given him. A tight momentary feel and then pulling back. But only this time she stopped and leaned against his forehead.

"Thank you," she whispered.

When he felt her withdraw he was taken back one hundred years to when he had been too badly beaten to grab her and show her what a real kiss was.

So he reached out faster than she could register and sat up on the bed bringing her with him. Before she knew what had happened he had pressed both their bodies together until the space between them couldn't even fit an ant.

Her breath was coming in ragged gasps as she felt his cool skin against hers "Spike.." she mumbled.

Bringing her closer she started to pull away but he held her tighter. "No you don't, Summers. I am going to kiss you, whether you like it or not. And you're going to like it. 'Cause none of your wankers have kissed you like I will."

Drowning in his intense blue eyes she parted her lips slightly as he descended on her mouth. The kiss was not an invitation--it was demanding, forceful, and lustful.

It made her want to scream and to cry, to laugh and run, to hide and deny. It felt like burning ice, cooling her tongue with his forceful and welcomed entrance. She moaned into him as his tongue traced the ridges of her gums. The intensity was so devastatingly good that she had no idea what to do with her hands. She felt limp and exhausted, as if she just reached her climax and was covered with the afterglow of passion. It left her breathless and unsure of her own name.

When he pulled back he still held her just as tightly. But she was lost, dancing in lands she had never seen, she was free and happy. Too happy and sated to open her eyes, she just hung on to him as if she might faint if he let her go. She felt deliciously completed. The feel of just one kiss had reduced her to a whimpering mess. She had no idea who she was or what she was doing there. All she knew it that is felt too good to ever finish.

His voice broke into her thoughts as the whispers of sweet lips touched her nose. "That...was a real kiss."

He stared at her in wonder. The girl was completely gone. He would try to bring her back with another kiss, but he was afraid he might never find her.

"Look at me, Buffy." he whispered harshly yet tenderly.

Her eyelids fluttered open as she was forced to recover.

"Mmmm?" she mumbled.

He held her tighter. "What's wrong, luv? Never been kissed like that?" he asked amused and quite proud of his technique.

All she could do was shake her head and look at him in wonder through her hooded lids.

"Listen to me, Buffy. I am not playing games. So if it's games you're seeking there's the door, you're free to leave. This is real, I've waited for you longer than I've ever waited for anyone, and I love you more than I've ever loved anyone. I am the only man you'll ever met who understands you and loves you for all that you are. I admire you and figure we have always belonged together.

Been waiting for you to grow up and forget my ponce of a sire, and to admit that Captain Cardboard meant shit.  
So here I am, Buffy, kissing you and loving you. I am just a man who loves a woman who claims she hates him. I am just a vampire denying my instincts for a slayer who kills my kind. I am soulless through and through and I am not ashamed. And I will love you until the day you die and a hundred years after that that, because whether you know it or not, whether you did it on purpose or not you made me human once again, gave me a soul when you trusted me, and killed me when you died."

Buffy trembled under his words. They had shocked her and shock her to the core. She was more than grateful that he was holding her because she would have surely fallen off the bed. Still dizzy from that thing he called a kiss and clouded by his words she stared at his sharp features trembling in need. He was asking her a question. A question too hard to handle, a question she had refused to explore. He was asking her for her love, and she was not sure that was what she felt.

"I...I. Spike I don't know what I want. You have a tendency to throw things at me that leave me confused and off course. Last time you told me you loved me it came out of no where. Now you tell me you love me and hours ago you were indifferent. I don't understand you. I don't know what to think. I don't know what to think about you. And my brain is not working at the moment. It went on Spike-break." she leaned closer until their lips were almost touching. "More." she whispered.

He stared at her cloudy lust-filled eyes. She wanted pleasure, and he wanted love and compromise. When had he come to care about the cuddling instead of the fucking? He had no idea, but one thing was for sure. This was not the way he wanted her. When the time was right he would get her, and have her the way he had always wanted.

_And I see a girl  
Who is learning to trust  
That's who I see  
Through your eyes _

Buffy's lids almost drifted close as she waited for his mouth. But it never came, and she focused on what was happening instead of the lake between her legs.

He was studying her face intently, drinking in all her planes.

"No, I don't think I'll kiss you again." he said harshly. "If you ever want me to kiss you, you're going to have to say that you love me and mean it. Nothing more, nothing less."

Her eyes grew wide with shock and disbelief. How could he...How dare he!! She was the one supposed to turn him away, to make him feel like dirt. Not him to her.

"That is something, Spike, that you'll never hear me say." she said harshly, pulling back from his embrace.

"Then I am prepared to take the consequences. Question is : can you?"

"Can I what?" she said icily.

"Take on the consequences." he said almost smirking as he stood from the bed. She watched him wide eyed as he stood, proud of who he was. Chest bare, muscles ripe and glistening.

She stood up on shaky legs, seething with anger.

"Take on the consequences? You're the one who is in love here. You just admitted it." she cried pointing at the rumpled bed.

He came closer, fighting with all his self control not to grab her and ravish her. "And you're the one who can't."

"Can't what? What the hell are you talking about?" she said frustrated.

"Admit it." he stated coming way too close for her comfort. His intense blue fiery eyes burning into her.

"Admit what? That I love you? Well I don't, so forget about it."

"The hell you don't. I've seen the way you look at me, Buffy. I am not a child and I am not blind. I can smell your arousal a mile away!!"

She lashed out and punched him, breaking his nose with the blow.

"You are the most disgusting creature I have ever met."

He regained his posture and glared at his bloody hand, then back at her.

"And you love it."

"You're delusional." she spat out.

"And one these days you might even believe your own lies." he responded. Buffy stared at him for a moment and rapidly turned and left.

And there are some things we don't know  
Sometimes our heart just needs to go  
And there is so much I remember  
Underneath the open sky with you forever


	13. The Card Players

Life of Fire, Heat, Desire- Part 12 of 100 yrs of Solitude (Races condemned to 100 yrs of solitude do not get a second opportunity on earth)

The Card Players- Part 13 of 100 yrs of Solitude (Races condemned to 100 yrs of solitude do not get a second opportunity on earth)

By: Isabelle

-Disclaimers: Title belongs entirely to Gabriel Garcia Marquez--just borrowing it for the sake of the story. Buffy, Spike, Whistler and all the memories belong to Joss and his crew. All other characters are entirely mine.

--

Vicki: Some people say you're as dangerous as the Joker.

Batman: He's psychotic.

Vicky: Some people say the same about you.

Batman: What people?

Vicky: Well, face it. You're not exactly normal, are you?

Batman: This isn't exactly a normal world, is it?

_Batman the Movie_

--

They hadn't spoken for the past few hours, and the past few hours turned into a day. In a few hours, the players will begin arriving, and the tension would hopefully unwind.

She was lying on her bed casually cursing the pages of a history book she had found in the living room. So many things had changed it was almost surreal.

She was in the middle of reading about the latest technological advancement, something about a flying car, when the knock on her door startled her.

She frowned. Spike had not made a move towards her since yesterday and that incident in his room.

She cursed herself. She should never have gone in there, should never have kissed him to begin with and now things were all awkward.

"It's open." she said, knowing he would be able to hear her.

"Not coming in Slayer. You're coming out."

She felt him walk away from the door. _Damn that vampire_, she thought.

Grumbling she stood from the bed and walked towards the closed door to see her oppressor.

He was sitting in the large living room with three large black suitcases next to him. Her stomach dropped to the floor.

Was he leaving? Was this it? A million thoughts raced through her head as she slowly made her way to him.

"Going somewhere?" she asked indifferently.

"Yeah," he said, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it. She looked on in horror. This time he was leaving her for sure, even though she didn't know why she cared. He was just a pain in the ass, a waste of perfectly vacuum compatible dust.

"So, bye," she stated coldly.

Spike's face snapped up to look at her. She had her 'I don't care' face on. He sighed and stood up bringing one of the cases to her and shoving it at her.

"Here" he said and picked up the other two, heading towards the front entrance of the apartment.

She looked at his retreating back and back down at the suitcase he gave her, when it dawned on her that these were cargo cases.

"C'mon, Summers. Got a lot of set up to do before the players come."

She followed him smugly. _This is just business_, she kept telling herself.

They rode the elevator in silence, stopping on the sixth floor. The room that opened before them was breathtaking.

She was completely intimidated by her surroundings. It was a real life-size pentagon. The walls were covered with computers, files, tracers, phones, charts, battle plans, reference guides and weapons. Tons of weapons.

"What is this?" she asked in wonder as green, red, blue, and yellow lights blinked around her. What ever it was tracking, it was tracking good.

"This,...this is the game room." he said as he looked over the wonders himself. "Here the players gather, plan, train, and live for the time necessary. We have one on every Hellmouth, the one here being the largest and most well stocked."

"What is it tracking?" she asked setting the heavy suitcase on a center table. The table was covered with architecture maps that mapped out the city and its skeleton.

"This 'ere tracks the players themselves," he said gesturing towards the right side of the room. "These track our slayers and me,...and these track our main street badies, from megalomaniac demons to serial killers and rapist, you name it . You steal a candy bar, we know your dick size. You cheated on your taxes we know how often you fuck your wife. It's very simple. We are the government." he said setting the cases down on top of the table.

"You mean to tell me that the whole world is controlled by seven individuals,...humans?" she asked skeptically.

"Uhm...no." he took a seat. "It's controlled by a vampire, four humans, a Bogara demon, and an unidentified species."

Buffy crossed her arms in slayer style. "Unidentified Species?"

He took out another cigarette and lighted it. "Loret." he stated and Buffy winced at the name. "We don't know what she is."

"You don't know what she is?" she asked skeptically.

"Well she looks human. She's just not...human." he blew out his smoke. "Her mother was a fairy, and her father was the son of a vampire slayer whose mother was a vampire."

Buffy stared at him for a couple of seconds trying to see whether he was pulling her leg or not. His statement remained calm and didn't waver.

"OK, let me get this straight." she took a breath "Loret's mother was a fairy. Who had sex with a man who was the son of a slayer, and the slayer was the daughter of a vampire?"

He nodded, trying to hide his smirk.

She sighed. "Spike, vampires can't have offspring. Shouldn't you know this?"

He chuckled. "So they say."

"They? Who is they?"

"The watcher's journal, the bible they taught you girls from all those years ago. Poppycocks the lot of 'hem. I say if the powers want to do something you best believe that you'll be nice and fertile when the full moon comes."

Buffy rubbed her index fingers on her temple. Information overload.

"It's no biggie, she's good, she's strong, she's a bad ass, I hired her. End of story." he stubbed out his cigarette. "Now," he began "Let's put everything between us aside and focus on the job that needs to be done." he said with a straight face.

Buffy felt a sour taste in her mouth. "Fine. All business, all the time."

He nodded. "Good, I am glad we understand each other." he stood up and walked to the right side of the room. "On to work."

The computers started beeping loudly and Buffy looked wildly around as the system seemed to break up.

"The hell?" she asked startled.

"Relax, pet." he said, staring into a screen with many frames indicating different TV cameras. "They're here."

--

"World Pass, please?" the small bald man asked the elder man who carried only a wooden stick and a doctor's bag.

The old man smiled at him and whispered three chants in Latin. The clerk went blank as his pupils dilated.

"Thank you, enjoy your stay with us in Columbia." the almost hypnotic bald man said as he waved the elder through.

Nodding in thanks he went on his way to his mission.

**Name: Unknown**

**Nickname: Troll**

**Occupation: Wizard, Card Player**

**Special Assets: Unlimited knowledge of magic, control of the natural forces.**

**Appearance: 5'2. White hair, looks Caucasian.**

**Classification: Bongara Demon**

--

She almost waltzed into the airport, clutching her Prada bag on her shoulder and flipping her long braided hair.

She knew he was coming behind her and she was prepared to face him.

"Hey, miss!"

She kept walking.

"Miss, stop!!"

She stopped as she knew his arm was coming to grab her elbow.

He was startled as she turned the moment he was going to grab her elbow.

"Yes?" she asked amused. The guard looked at her up and down appreciatively. Her cinnamon skin was nice and bronzed and she wore tight jeans with a tiny top showing off her rippled stomach. She was tall, very tall. Chocolate brown eyes looked at him with a lot of knowledge and amusement.

"Miss,..your...your..."

"My World Pass?" she asked arching a perfectly shaped brow.

He exhaled and nodded quickly.

She smiled at him, showing off perfect white teeth behind the maroon lipstick. "Don't need one, darling."

He was startled, but before he could protest she held out a long finger and pressed it lightly over his mouth. "Because if you ask me for one, your boss will find out about the 6,000 you stole from the bolt yesterday."

She brought the finger down and smiled again. "Do we understand each other?"

The guard could only stare in disbelief as the color drained from his face. He composed himself and gulped.

"Carry on." he said in a tiny voice, as he waved her through.

She turned on her merry way leaving a stunned man behind.

**Name: Savanna Michaels**

**Nickname: Zeta**

**Occupation: World's Best Psychic**

**Special Assets: Sees future events, some use of magic, contacts the dead, tarot reader, among other things. Bilingual, English and Creole. Speaks five different spirit languages.**

**Appearance: 6'0, From the Island of Haiti.**

**Classification: Human**

--

"Name's Rio, Mario Rio."

"World pass?" the woman asked looking at the well-sculpted man above her glasses.

Like a military man, he dropped his army duffle bag and promptly produced his pass.

She took it from him and studied it carefully. The last lines struck on her.

"You're a player?" she asked skeptically.

"Yes, ma'am." he stood rigidly.

"Well don't salute, buddy. I need to see your bags." she said handing him back his pass.

Mario hoisted his large duffle bag on top of the counter and opened it for the inspection.

The woman pulled out what looked like a grenade.

She eyed it with care and glared at the soldier. "Do you have a permit for this?"

"Yes ma'am." he replied looking straight ahead.

She waited and he just stared at her. She sighed. "Well aren't you going to show it to me?"

"Sorry ma'am you didn't ask." he said smirking.

_Players_. She cursed silently.

**Name: Mario Alejandro Rio DelValle**

**Nickname: Vulture**

**Occupation: Ex-Navy Seal, Previous employment World CIA.**

**Assets: Extensive knowledge of all weaponry, skillful in the tactics of war, sniper.**

**Appearance: 5'9, Military build, Hispanic-American**

**Classification: Human**

--

The beeping sound startled her and she glared from behind her sunglasses at the tall man who approached her bags.

"Don't you dare touch it." she said icily.

He turned to look at her. Her straight black hair was pulled up in a pony tail and her windbreaker pants with her tight white tank top did not seem like a menace.

He smiled, looking at her red lips.

"It's just part of the procedure."

"The procedure is that you take your hands off my shit."

He looked at her with an angry statement seething from his pores.

"I can't let you through if that light beeps." he said pointing at the blue flashing light.

She walked past him and pulled out a tiny metal stick and a knife. She opened up the pole that held the blue flashing light, and played around with some of the cables until the light stopped flashing and the beeping stopped.

Placing her tools back in her pocket she grabbed her bags. "Now it's not beeping." she said over her shoulder.

**Name: Lucy Tao**

**Nickname: None**

**Occupation: Bio-Engineer, Mechanical Engineer, Computer Analyst (Hacker), Trigonometrician, Investor, Accountant, Lawyer.**

**Assets: Most intelligent person on the planet.**

**Appearance: 5'5, Vietnamese**

**Classification: Human**

--

"Sir, you have rice and beans in your bag." the woman said to the young man.

He smiled showing his perfect white teeth. "Ah knows."

"Again, you have rice and beans in your bag." she looked back again at the collection of over ten bowls of food stuffed in the bag.

"Ma stuffed 'hem in there. Lawd knows, when ah' be able to eat some healthy food. Comin' to this Gawd forsaken' place, righ-ere' ah got ma nutrition." he continued smiling.

She looked at him for a couple of seconds and closed the bag. "So you're not going to terrorize the locals with the beans?"

He laughed heartily. "Yuh's just as funny as ah puppy!"

She rolled her eyes and scribbled something down in her notebook.

**Name: Dalton McDullah**

**Nickname: The Artist**

**Occupation: Con-Artist, ex-Army Ranger**

**Assets: Street-wise, knows five different languages.**

**Appearance: 6'1, Strong Built**

**Classification: Human**

--

She exhaled the last remains of the smoke in her lungs, dropped the cigarette and crushed it under her five inch heel. Dressed from head to toe in black leather she grabbed her bag over her shoulder and started walking towards security.

The guards eyed her, drinking in her curves, her wild long red hair, and her perfectly set cherry-red mouth.

They gulped as they all hardened at her confident approach.

Stopping in front of them she dropped her bag and pulled another cigarette from her short coat pocket.

"Y-You,...you can't go through here miss, its a restricted area." The guard stood in front of her.

_One woman, ten guards. The odds? Not bad_, she thought.

"Restricted you say? To whom? Pansies like you?" she asked amused.

"You need a pass." another said.

"That's it?" she asked raising her eyebrows. "A pass? That's all I need?"

"Do you have one?" another said coming closer.

"Nooooo, but if you just tell me who I have to beat up to get one, then I am sure we'll all get along."

Five of them advanced towards the woman. She smiled. Time to play nasty.

Before they knew it she had pulled out a travel size club and moved at lightening speed. Bashing some in the head, breaking others legs, ribs cracking, and ripped throats. The other five looked at her with fear and exasperation.

"Who's next?" she sneered, still in fighting position.

There was a two second count until the leader reacted "Get her!!"

Within minutes all four were lying on the floor along with the previous five.

She spit out blood from her mouth and picked up her bag once again. She walked calmly to where the last one remained.

"Get away from me--I have a gun." he announced as he backed up against the fence.

Before he could pull the weapon out the red head moved at inhuman speed and grabbed him by the throat, lifting him two feet off the air.

"And you have my pass."

"What pass?" the man choked out.

"Have you ever wondered if your arm still twitches if I pull it off. Science says it's still alive for about three seconds afterwards," her eyes got huge, "Wanna find out?"

The man pulled out the key-pass, trembling in his hand. "Oh, this pass."

**Name: Loretta Michiaou**

**Nickname: Loret**

**Occupation: Martial Arts Instructor for the IDS (International Defense System), Terrorism Analyst**

**Assets: Moves at lightening speed because of biological origin, knows seven languages, strength as a vampire, endurance of a slayer, part-time phone sex operator.**

**Appearance: 5'7, Red head, French origin.**

--

They all arrived at the same time and the government escort was waiting for them to drive them to headquarters.

As they went up the elevator Spike was waiting for them with his arms crossed and a very pissed off face and a intimidated looking girl to his side.

"Nice entrance," he said dryly.

They all entered the room and avoided his gaze. "Maybe next time we'll announce it, with neon lights and all. 'Card Players to arrive at Bogota.' Turn it into the bloody Enquirer. Next thing you know they'll be catching us naked, be on the six o'clock news."

Lucy sighed loudly and pushed past Mario and Zeta. "Don't flatter yourself, Spike. And stop with the dramatics, you sound like a damn drill sergeant."

"Yeah, man," Mario piped in but avoided Spike's hardening gaze.

Spike muttered under his breath about respect and discretion.

"So, who's the babe?" Mario asked eyeing Buffy up and down.

"Can you ever say anything without your dick getting in the way?" Loret asked as she sighed loudly.

"And you don't know how to say No in any of the ten languages you speak." Mario shot back at the red head.

Loret walked up to the man and glared down at him. "For your information, there is one man I would say no to, and that would be you. And I speak seven languages you mincer!"

"Really then, if you ever become a mommy, can I have one of the puppies?" he retorted.

"She's the slayer," Troll said above the banter of he younger two.

They all stopped what they were doing and stared at the blonde.

Buffy felt herself shrink away behind Spike, they were staring at her as if she was a guinea pig.

"OK, don't make 'er more upset!" Spike said glaring at his players.

"I am not upset!!" Buffy retorted to the vampire.

"Oh, I like her! It takes a real woman to talk back to you, Spike," Lucy smirked from her placed on one of the chairs.

"I don't talk back to him, does that make me less woman?" Zeta retorted to the other woman.

"Ah we gonna keep 'er?" Dalton asked looking over Buffy. "She as skinny as ah twig, ahs need to feed 'er."

"She's not housebroken, you idiot!" Mario glared at the other man.

"She looks broken to me." Loret replied walking over to Buffy and walking around her.

Buffy glared at the much taller woman.

"Alright!" Spike cried impatiently. "Fer christsakes, she's the slayer."

"Yes..." Zeta hissed and closed her eyes, breathing in the air. "_The_ Slayer, she has an old soul." She opened her eyes again and smiled at Buffy. "Welcome back, Miss Summers."

The room went silent as they stared harder at Buffy.

"Time for 'the talk'," Mario said settling down and making himself more comfortable.

--

"Well, and people say my lifestyle is weird. I suppose being brought back from the dead twice kinda tops mine," Mario leered at Buffy.

She rolled her eyes and looked away--he had not stopped hitting on her since he saw her.

He smirked. "I like them fiery."

Loret paced the room and finally jumped up on the table they were all sitting at, squatting before Buffy. Buffy crossed her arms around her chest and glared right back at the woman.

"How do we know she's not lying. That this isn't some type of a scam to sneak into our operation?" she poked Buffy in the arm. "Is she even real?"

Buffy slapped her hand away and was surprised to find that she hurt herself in the process. Loret chuckled at her bravado.

"Ladies, please!" Troll said from his corner, "What has happened to the slayer is most intriguing and I would love to do more research about--this must be documented. So Loretta--lay off her."

"Sorry," she said putting an innocent face on. "Didn't mean to scare Spike's new toy."

Buffy and Spike immediate leapt up to their feet and before anything else happened Buffy had punched Loret clear across the room.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Spike demanded as he walked over to the now standing up red head.

Loret spit out the blood from her mouth and calmly looked at her ex-boyfriend.

"Did I hit a nerve? I know who she is, Spike. We all do. I am just the only one with balls enough to say it." She glared at Buffy. "Nice punch, sweets."

"Anytime, Annie." Buffy retorted placing her hands on her hips.

"Stop it!" Spike grabbed Loret by her bare arm and pulled her towards the door.

"Get your hands off me!" She tried to push the vampire off but he held on tight.

"You and me ar' gonna have a talk," was the last that they heard Spike say as he shut the door behind them.

"Damn, I hates them talks," Dalton said as he brought out his lunch.

"Do you ever stop eating?" Troll asked as he looked at the large plate the man had in front of him.

"Ahs got to keep healthy."

Buffy ignored the food banter and stared after the door Spike and Loret had walked through. "What the hell is her problem?"

"Oh don't worry about it," Mario came up behind her and placed a hand on her shoulder.

Buffy reacted by turning around and glaring at him. "Let me say this so we're both clear. I don't like you. Therefore, no matter how many times you ask me out I will say no."

She stared at him. He looked defeated. "Are we clear? Or do you want me to get physical?"

Mario shook his head, "Worth a try, though. My wife would kill me."

"You have a wife?" she asked in disbelief.

He nodded sadly. "Yup, five unhappy years."

Buffy looked at him still in disbelief with a touch of disgust.

"He just stays around for the guaranteed fuck." Lucy chimed in as she typed away in her computer.

"We have a lovely group," Zeta commented to Buffy. All the slayer could do was nod.

--

Spike slammed the red head against the back wall and growled at her. She lifted her chin defiantly and stared at him with icy blue eyes that matched his own.

"What the hell is your problem?" he hissed at her.

"Oh, I don't know. My body momentarily spasms every time you are near. It's like it's screaming out watch out he's an asshole. I felt so miserable without you, it was almost like having you here." She cocked her head and smirked.

Spike turned from her and began to pace. She watched him like she had watched him many times.

"This wasn't 'bout me, Loret, and you know it." he roared.

She didn't reply but just stared at him.

"So you're mad 'bout Tatiana, we all are. So I played you wrong, so most women are. So we get a new slayer, you've been through the installation of three--I would think that by now you would accept this change." He stopped and looked at her.

"But no, that's not it. Is it, _pet?_" Spike walked closer to her until their faces were inches apart. "You're jealous."

Loret looked at him amused. "Jealous?" she pushed him away and stared him down. "I've been jealous since the first time I met you, Spike. You could have any woman, anytime. Yes I was jealous, when you flirted with Lucy, I was jealous when you left me for that Opal bitch. But jealous of Buffy Summers? No. It's not jealousy. Jealousy I can cope with because I know you'll always come running back to me and slip under my covers and we'll have a great fuck. With Buffy...well she's the love of your life. For her you changed, for her you became a good doggie.

As long as she's alive, no matter what she does or how many times she fucks you over, you'll never come to me for a good shag. And I'll tell you why. You're desperate to get one inch of gratitude, one crumb of recognition, a sympathetic look, a god-damn smile that you would do everything in your power to make sure you don't fuck up.

Well...wear your doggie leash while you can. Because eventually she's gonna die." she came closer to his pained face. "And the moment she does, I'll be there...I'll slip in. Have my self...a real good day." she sneered.

Spike reached out and grabbed her by her throat pulling her face mere inches from his. His gaze was cold and unwavering. The pain radiating from him was palpable and she almost shrunk back at the hurt.

He swallowed painfully hard. "I can slam you against this wall and fuck you until you bleed. I can make you suffer, whimper in need, until your pussy oozes down your legs. But I'll never, ever, run to you. After Buffy all else is cardboard. But then again the title suits you fine."

They stared at each other for another moment becoming aware of each other's body pressed against the other.

Without warning they lashed out for each other's mouth. Hungry and desperate, as if the last meal was days ago. He poured out all his frustration and she poured out all her anger. Falling painfully to the floor they continued.

Their clothed bodies slapped against each other as she arched her hips in heat.

Both too buried in the sexual pleasure of the moment that they didn't hear the door open beside them.

--

All that Buffy could do was stare.

She felt numb. Like that moment when you're about to go sleep and your body does not respond. She felt nauseous.

"Oh God," was all she could say. Neither her legs nor her eyes obeyed her as she watched the couple on the floor, feeling and kissing each other in a game of dominance.

Spike felt a sharp presence hit him that broke into his hazy thoughts of passion.

He abruptly pulled away from the hungry red mouth and turned to see who the intruder was.

The floor was falling underneath him. He was weightless and free. The only way was to disconnect--that's all he could do as he watched a completely hurt and horrified Buffy staring at him.

Just him. Those large green eyes pleading him not to be true.

"Buffy?"

Loret turned her tousled head to look at the girl and a small smile appeared on her face. "Guess you have competition, darling." she sing-songed and she reached up and kissed Spike's jaw line.

Buffy let out a small sob and ran out of the room.

Spike could only stare at her leave. He didn't have the energy to run after her. He looked back down at the woman who so often had been his escape. She smiled at him and caressed his cheek. "You'll thank me one day for this, William."

Spike slapped her hand away and stood up. His erection had shrunk painfully fast and the last thing he wanted was to deal with anything in life. Life had been so simple for so long. Damn her for mucking it up!!

"Get out of 'ere." he whispered to Loret.

Loret stood up and fixed her shirt.

"Tell the players to set up. I'll be back after dinner."

Spike walked away slowly and mechanically, walked down to his bike and a ride of escape.


	14. The Wages of Hate Part A

Life of Fire, Heat, Desire- Part 12 of 100 yrs of Solitude (Races condemned to 100 yrs of solitude do not get a second opportunity on earth)

The Wages of Hate--Part 14 of 100 yrs of Solitude (Races condemned to 100 yrs of solitude do not get a second opportunity on earth)

**PART A**

By: Isabelle

-Disclaimers: Title belongs entirely to Gabriel Garcia Marquez--just borrowing it for the sake of the story. Buffy, Spike, Whistler and all the memories belong to Joss and his crew. All other characters are entirely mine. Lyrics belong to Marc Anthony, "Contra La Corriente" (Against the Current) and are used without permission.

--

(Spike's Private Gym)

To begin to question the burning pain in her chest was impossible. Burning pain like this had happened only once in her life--with Angel and Faith.

And look were it got them. They had ended up married!

No, she wasn't going to question it,...but why her? Why that slut? A night ago he had been confessing true love, and the next day he was sprawled out on the dirty floor crushing the red head's lips.

Buffy shuddered and removed her top cardigan leaving only her tank top and her jeans. She found the punching bag and started banging on it without any protection for her fist.

Bang

_Asshole_

Bang

_Pervert_

Bang

_Pig_

Bang

_Liar_

Bang

_Jerk_

She did not know when her tears had started but they were flowing along with her punches. They became sobs and evolved to screams as she punched harder and harder. With every pain that shot up her hand she felt madder. Mad at him, at Loret, at the entire situation.

This was not her plan--this was never her plan. Things had just gotten too mucked up and too confusing. Feelings were jumbled together, and emotions that were not supposed to be there were lurking in the shadows of her soul.

It got her even madder, and she gave the bag one last punch that ripped it from the ceiling.

--

_No hay día que pase que yo no me acuerde de ti (There isn't a day that goes by that I don't think of you)_

_No hay labios que bese que no me sepan a ti (There are no lips that I have kissed that don't remind me of you)_

_Tu te quedaste para siempre aquí en mi pensamiento (You 've stayed forever in my thoughts)_

_Tu me dominas tienes el control de mis sentimientos (You dominate me, and have control of my feelings)_

Spike had decided to run down the stairs instead of waiting for the elevator. He ran until he thought he might trip. Seeing his bike only a feet away, he skipped the helmet and crashed out through the front panel of the garage.

Time was nothing to this creature of the night who had cheated time and space. Living hundreds of years and walking in broad daylight. What maybe him so special? He was soulless--condemned to eternal life, not being able to have what he always wanted.

He rode through the dark town, empty of human life, no one hiding in dark corners of deserted buildings. He rode until his palms hurt from crushing the handlebars of the Dukati. He hated her, he hated Loret, he hated everyone. His hate was building inside of him until the heat in his chest become almost, unbearable. He pulled up into a dark alley and started panting and clutching his chest as if he couldn't breathe.

"You don't breathe, you sod! Get a hold of yourself!" He muttered to himself.

He got off his bike and leaned against the dirty alley wall.

_Aunque estes lejos de nada me sirve (And even though you're not here it's no use)_

_Porque yo te quiero más que ayer, más que ayer. (Because I love you more than yesterday, more than yesterday)_

He slid down and for the first time he realized that he had tear tracks down his face. One hand on his heaving chest and the other tentatively touching his wet face. He was crying.

"I'm crying," he told himself. "Bloody 'ell."

Then the down pour came. "She's alive," he said in a low voice. "She's really alive," he repeated.

The reality of the situation crashed down on him and he let out a dry sob. He had only cried once for her--the day she died. Never again had he cried, not even when Dawn died.

Tears were foreigners to him. He let out a threatening sob, then another, then another until he was crying, clutching his knees to his chest, weeping like a child who lost everything.

_Yo trato, trato, trato pero no te olvido (I try and try and try but I can't forget you)_

_Yo lucho, lucho, lucho y no lo consigo (I fight, I fight I fight but I cannot find it)_

_Lo pongo todo de mi parte y no es suficiente (I put my all yet it's never enough)_

_Es como seguir nadando contra la corriente. (It's like swimming against a current, against a current)_

He had not felt this awful in a long time. The tears wouldn't stop. He clutched his chest until he thought he might explode. Rain started to fall, light and cold upon his heaven-turned face. "Why?" he cried to the heavens.

"Why?" he said louder.

No answer but the sky loudly weeping with him.

"Why her?" he cried out until his throat hurt.

He stood up and stretched out his arms and looked at the powers that watched him silently.

"For fifty years I have saved the race you love and this is my reward?!" he cried. "Why? Why her? Why me?" he hollowed.

He coughed back a sob. "Fuck you!!, Fuck you and your bleeding prophecies, fuck you and your apocalypses, fuck you and your eternity,...FUCK YOU!!," he cried out.

He landed harshly on his knees, his wet hair decorating his forehead. He hunched his shoulders and balled his fist in anger.

Passion within him, anger and frustration.

It was a flash back.

_That_ night.

That dreadful night. The night he died.

He fell, an endless fall, Dawn's face tattooed on his memories.

With a crash and too many broken bones he landed.

When he came to consciousness he saw her.

It couldn't be her, he kept telling himself, never her.

But there she lay. His golden beauty.

Broken.

Beaten.

Dead.

He cried that night. He cried like he had never cried. As if existence didn't have a purpose.

He hated himself. He hated himself with pure intolerable rage.

He opened his eyes from his memories and he saw her again before him in the dark alley by this bike. Her body.

Broken.

Beaten.

Dead.

"BUFFY!!" He cried out long, hard, and agonized.

_No hay noche que llegue que yo no te sienta aquí (There isn't a night that goes by that I don't feel you with me)_

_Tu te quedaste para siempre aquí en mi pensamiento (You stayed forever with me in my memories)_

_Tu me dominas tienes el control de mis sentimientos (You dominate me and have control of my feelings)_

_Y aunque estes lejos de nada me sirve (And even thought you're far away it's no use)_

_Porque yo te quiero más que ayer, más que ayer. (Because I love you more than yesterday, more than yesterday)_

The night heard his cry and sent lightning in condolences. Lightening and thunder.

Brightly lit rays that filled the sky.

He was lying on his stomach when he realized he had finished weeping. He was dirty and smelly but he didn't care. She was alive and he had hurt her. He had hurt in so many ways since she had come back--with his indifference and his denial.

He was a fool and he knew it. Sammy was right when said what he said.

This was his second chance. This was his time to make it right.

Without further thought he jumped on his bike and sped into the night.

--

"Where the hell have you been? And where's Spike?" Mario asked Loret as she entered the game room. They had set up all the equipment and were sitting around having lunch.

"Spike said to set up, which I see you've already done. He'll be back after dinner." Loret said as she casually grabbed her bag from the table and started to walk out.

"Where 're you goin'?" Dalton asked the woman.

She shrugged. "Gonna work out some of the tension."

They watched her leave with amusement.

"Humm. I do believe someone's jealous." Zeta said looking at the closed door.

"Really? What else do you see?" Mario asked leaning forward.

--

Loret watched the blonde hit the punching bag so hard that it fell on the floor.

She smiled.

"Nice work, darling," she said walking casually to Buffy.

Buffy was perplexed and turned to the approaching woman.

She stared at her hard and long with hatred seeping from her eyes.

"What do you want?" she asked icily.

Loret shrugged.

"Wanted to see if you wanted to...work things out?" Loret asked eyeing her up and down.

Buffy answered her by glaring at her and folding her arms across her chest.

"Very well then. I say we really work things out," she sneered.

Buffy smirked.

"My pleasure," she replied.

Loret threw her bag down and peeled off her leather coat, leaving her in tight leather pants and a black tank top.

Both glared at each other and without warning Loret lashed out and punched Buffy right on the nose. The slayer flew back, smacking into the wall and sliding down to the floor.

Loret approached the stunned slayer. "You mess with the big girls, you're gonna get hurt."

She picked up Buffy by the hair and slammed her knee into her face.

"Less is more, darling," she sneered.

The slayer fell to the floor with a loud thud and whimpered at the force of the blow.

Buffy couldn't believe the force of the woman. It was like fighting Glory all over again.

"Really? Should have thought about that before you put on make-up," Buffy murmured but Loret heard her very clearly.

She felt Loret lifting her by her belt and pulling her up. The red head grabbed Buffy face and brought it to hers. "I don't play nice, Slayer. I play dirty and rough. Can you handle it, sweetie?" she asked sarcastically.

Buffy narrowed her eyes and spit on her face.

Loret picked her up again and back-slapped her across the room.

The blonde landed flat on her back, coughing. She groggily sat up to find an impatient Loret staring down at her.

"You interrupted my moment. Tsk, tsk, big mistake, little girl." She kicked her on the gut.

Buffy doubled over panting. She felt the tangy taste of blood in her mouth and spit it out onto the mat.

She felt Loret grabbing a handful of hair. The slayer kicked in and reacted before the player could recuperate.

She flipped to her back and lashed out, kicking Loret on the gut, sending her flying across the room.

She stood up and watched the red head get up clutching her stomach.

"What is it with you women here? You insist on fighting for Spike." she walked up to her and punched her before she could recuperate. "

"_'He's mine'. 'Don't touch him'_. Give me a break!!" she mimicked punched her again.

Loret stared at the slayer incredulously.

"Well let me tell you something, bitch," Buffy said narrowing her gaze. "And get it right this time, because I will not repeat it again."

She kicked Loret on her back and the red head went down on all fours.

Buffy picked up a bunch of red hair and brought her head up to attention. "Spike is his own man. If he doesn't love you now, he never will. You Loret, he will never love. So fuck him all you want, cause that's all you'll ever get from him."

She let go of the limp head and stepped away.

Buffy was panting and hurting all over. The other woman had done a good job.

Loret started laughing. A low insane laugh that chilled Buffy to the bone.

Buffy let her laugh and watched with a careful look as the player didn't move. She just stayed on the mat laughing.

After several minutes of insane laugher she turned her head and looked at Buffy. "I know," she gulped and smiled at the younger girl. "I know he doesn't love me. I know who he loves and that was never a danger to me until she came back and fucked things up," she laughed again.

Buffy backed up until she felt a table behind her and sat down exhausted.

Loret picked herself back up from the floor. She stood on shaky legs.

They stared at each other for a long time, a competition of wits.

"Why do you care, I thought you didn't love him. I thought he meant shit to you," Loret asked as she picked up her bag from the floor.

Buffy didn't answer but continued to stare down at the older woman.

"Obviously you have your history all wrong," Buffy replied coolly.

"Then what does he mean?" Loret probed, crossing her arms.

Buffy sighed and looked wearily at the woman.

"Listen, I am too tired to think about this. Besides, I wouldn't discuss things like this with anyone, least of all you," Buffy said.

Loret smiled. "Good, cause..."

She stopped as Spike entered the room.

He looked wet and tired and Buffy could tell he had been crying.

She instantly jumped off the table and started to walk towards him.

"What happened?" both Buffy and Spike asked at the same time.

"It's raining outside." he responded and looked over the two bruised and bloody women. "Loret," he started patiently, "What the hell is your problem?"

Loret smiled and pulled her coat on, but before she could answer the speaker of the room came on.

"We have a code 4, Charley approaching, closing in and fast," Mario said and turned off.

Both Spike and Loret sprang to action leaving Buffy confused. They bolted out of the room and the slayer ran after them.

"What's going on, what's code 4, and who's Charley?" she asked running up the stairs behind them.

"We've been spotted," Spike cried over his shoulder.

--

None of the players looked up as the three burst into the room.

They were all busy with their with their individual assignments.

"Where are they?" Spike asked over Lucy's shoulder as the radar in front of her blinked, green dots glowing in different places.

"I have five Charley coming up the east side and four coming up the south side," She said reading the screen and typing away furiously.

"Troopers or Horsemen?" Mario asked hoisting up a case of guns, opening it and starting to assemble them.

Spike looked at Zeta, who closed her eyes and concentrated. "Troopers,...the horsemen are waiting two blocks away," she said and opened her eyes.

"Fuck," Spike cursed under his breath and went to the table along with the other players who were grabbing weapons and utility belts.

"What the hell are these codes you guys use? I mean, in my time you said vampire, I said stake, you said demon, I said sword, you said human, I said protect," She said looking over the bullets and grenades being tossed around.

"Get used to disappointment," Spike said shoving a wood-handled shot gun to her.

She glared at it.

"Humans?" she asked looking at him.

"Don't know," Dalton replied as he buckled the belt around him.

"You don't know," Buffy repeated incredulously.

"Troll," Spike said and the old man knew exactly what to do.

He brought out a pouch of spices and sprinkled it before the players. He said several words in druid tongue and clapped his hands.

"Done," he said.

The moving about started again.

"Listen up people. We have nine on the radar. That means we go out ready to fight ninety. Loret and Mario you get the south side, Me and Buffy will take the east side, Dalton manage the game room, keep Zeta and Troll safe, Lucy do your magic, pet." They moved to action and Buffy followed a very well armed Spike out the back door.

--

Lucy slid her chair into place in front of her computer and adjusted her ear piece.

"Red leader, do you copy?" she waited.

Loret's voice came clear into the computer voice system. "Copy, gold leader, we are descending section 52, two troopers up ahead."

"Over and out," Lucy responded and switched channels. "Black leader, do you copy?"

Spike's muffled voice came into the intercom. "Copy gold leader, we are in hall 32, approaching 3 troopers and closing."

"You have one trooper at six o'clock. Watch your back."

There was a commotion going on. "Got it, thanks, pet."

"Over and out," she responded and turned to face Zeta.

"How many more are we expecting?" Lucy asked her partner.

Zeta closed her eyes and concentrated, her senses became one with her surroundings.

"The Horseman is sending ten more as we speak," she said when she opened her eyes.

Lucy turned rapidly on her seat. "Fuck," she muttered under her breath.

"Troll--barrier," She said as she began typing furiously on her computer.

The old man nodded and began saying words in Latin.

Zeta felt a rush go through her and snapped her head to attention.

"Someone's coming."

--

She looked at him and he understood.

Both moved like predators as they split and rounded the column in the middle of the dark room.

Without warning to the oppressors, one bullet had hit the trooper's stomach and a powerful kick snapped his neck.

They watched the body fall limp.

"That was easy." Mario commented to his partner.

The red head nodded and looked around the empty room. "Too easy."

--

"Why can't we just have a good old fashioned fight--you know, like the ones with the stakes?" she pleaded with him as she clutched his arm in the dark hallway.

He ignored her plea and continued. "Cause I can hear heartbeats."

"Heartbeats? As in humans?" she stopped in her tracks.

"Bloody 'ell, woman! Will you let go of your damn morals!" he hissed at her. "These humans are trying to kill you, what do you do? Kill 'em or stand in front of them with open arms?" He asked her.

Buffy cocked her head and glared at him. He was still wet. His eyes were small from crying and his lips were paler than normal.

"I've never killed a human before," she said in a low voice. "I am not a killer, Spike. Protecting humans is my calling, not killing them. If they do something bad then it's the police's job to get to them, not mine. I was called to fight demons. That's my war. The war you have made is not mine. You fight demons as you fight humans, you kill them. You're a ..."

"Killer?" he finished for her.

She looked up at his dark blue eyes. They were hard and intense.

She nodded. "Spike, I'm so..."

"Don't say it slayer, I don't want the apology," he turned and kept walking, his shoulders tense with anger.

Before Buffy could say anything he turned around to face her. "You know, Buffy, you're something else. So high and mighty you can't see past your own nose. You make yourself the victim, the martyr of this world. All hail to The Slayer called Buffy. She broke the rules when she fell in love with a soul-filled vampire, she shocked everyone when she quit the council, she was strong when she defeated a god, and she was a hero when she died for humanity."

She looked at him with bright green eyes filled with tears. The pain was visible and the pain kept him going, it was alive.

"Stop," she said to him.

"And here comes a command. I should obey, right? I should get down on my knees and obey her most magnanimous highness." he got down on his knees in front of her and bowed his head.

Buffy was about to hit him when from the darkness a movement came. He snapped his head back and looked at her.

She watched in horror as a large stake was rammed through his chest. He gasped, looking into her eyes.

"Buffy..." he let past his lips.

The slayer heard a scream. It was not until seconds later that she realized it was hers.

The vampire fell at her feet and the shadow that attacked disappeared as it had come.

Buffy fell on her knees and held the trembling vampire. "Spike?" her voice was ragged and desperate.

She turned him over and pressed his head to her chest. He felt cold, but even though she knew he should be cold the feeling was unnerving. She knew that if she tried to remove the stake she could dust him. The smallest splinter was all he needed.

To move him was impossible. It could have the same effect.

"Don't move," she whispered to him.

His eyes rolled back in his head and she kissed his forehead. She looked at the hand that should have held the Ring of Amara but it was gone--they had gotten him unprepared.

"Stay with me, baby," she said combing back the wet curls that stuck to his forehead.

"Get it out," he hissed with closed eyes.

She looked down to his blood-soaked shirt. "I can't Spike, it's too close."

He grabbed her hand and searched her face. "Do it. We have work to do."

She shook her head looking at his pain-filled face. "I am not risking it."

"Dammit, Buffy," he said, closing his eyes.

She ignored him and grabbed his ear piece.

"Lucy?" she pleaded "Please, I need help!" she cried into the piece.

The static came up, "Buffy? What happened?"

"Spike's been staked, I can't move him. Please!" she pleaded.

"Slayer..." Spike murmured trying to grab the piece from his chest.

Buffy moved his hand away.

"I'm coming, hold on," said the voice in the intercom.

"Thank you." Buffy sighed with relief.

"Buffy, I...," Spike tried to say but she silenced him with her finger.

"Hold on, baby, help is on its way," she said as he closed his eyes again.


	15. The Wages of Hate Part B

Life of Fire, Heat, Desire- Part 12 of 100 yrs of Solitude (Races condemned to 100 yrs of solitude do not get a second opportunity on earth)

The Wages of Hate--Part 14 of 100 yrs of Solitude (Races condemned to 100 yrs of solitude do not get a second opportunity on earth)

PART B

By: Isabelle

-Disclaimers: Title belongs entirely to Gabriel Garcia Marquez--just borrowing it for the sake of the story. Buffy, Spike, Whistler and all the memories belong to Joss and his crew. All other characters are entirely mine. Lyrics belong to Marc Anthony, "Contra La Corriente" (Against the Current) and are used without permission.

--

"What happened?" Troll asked the woman who was grabbing the heavy medical case and hoisting it over her shoulder.

"Spike's down," Lucy said.

They all looked at her as if she'd gone crazy.

"Wha'dcha said?" Dalton asked.

"Spike's down, ok--he must have taken the ring off," She said harder. "Troll, put a barrier spell over the room, Dalton, can you handle the south side?"

The man nodded and grabbed a few more weapons.

"Ok, I shouldn't be long. We have to bring him back, so be on the defensive. Zeta, you've got the board." Lucy walked out of the room.

Zeta sat at the computer that was previously occupied by Lucy and grabbed the earpiece.

"Listen up, leaders. Black leader is down. Red leader, you're in charge," Zeta said.

"Copy green leader. Over and out," Mario said.

Zeta turned to Troll. "Spike's never gone down."

The old man nodded, "There's always a new one."

--

"What did she say?" Loret asked her partner.

"Spike's down, you're in charge," he stated and kept walking in the shadows when a strong arm grabbed him by the collar.

He found himself facing a very upset Loret. "What do you mean, 'Spike's down'?"

He stuttered. "He's down, you know what that means, bitch," he said pulling away from the woman.

Loret let him go and turned the other way.

"Where the hell are you going?" he asked her.

"South Side."

--

Too long had passed. His wound was bleeding profusely, and putting pressure on it might move the wood.

Buffy was shedding silent tears as Spike's body trembled in her arms. He had lost consciousness a few minutes ago. She could tell because his grip had slowly faded to non-existent.

She lightly ran her hand down his pale face. He looked so young when he was asleep, so vulnerable, and human.

"C'mon, where the hell are you?" she asked the thin air.

She looked down at the man in her arms. "I am not going to lose you," she whispered as she pressed a kiss to the top of his head, inhaling the scent of rain-soaked hair.

He didn't respond.

She choked back a small sob. Pulling the wood out had passed her mind. But the only thing that was worse than having blood on her clothes was having dust.

Dust that would remind her always of him, dust that she would not be able to wash away--it would itch until she would have to scratch her skin off to get the feeling off and still she was sure she would feel it.

She heard steps running in her direction and her heart leaped up in anticipation.

"Buffy?"

"Lucy! Over here!" she cried out in relief.

The thin woman knelt in front of the vampire and the slayer. Her boss was unconscious and she knew it was up to her to get him back.

"How long has he been out?" she asked, carefully cutting away his tattered shirt.

Buffy shrugged. "Maybe five minutes."

Lucy heard the fear in the blonde's voice and she looked up. The girl had tear tracks down her face, her lips were trembling and her eyes were filled with fear.

"Hey! It'll be ok, we'll get him back to his annoying self as soon as possible." she smiled.

Buffy could just nod--all she could feel was Spike's limp body in her arms.

Lucy studied the wound. "We need to get him back to the game room--there's an operating room there, Troll needs to protect his heart with a spell and I need to make sure all the splinters are out of him."

"We can't move him." Buffy said holding Spike in place.

"We're gonna have to, Buffy. We need Troll. I am no good with spells." Lucy took out a piece of gauze and started wrapping Spike's chest.

When she was done she looked over at the girl who had fresh tears on her eyes.

"Please, please get him back." Buffy pleaded.

Lucy smiled at her. "No problem, kiddo. Now, c'mon. I need you to lift him up carefully."

She complied and both women hoisted the body, careful not to move it too much.

--

Both Troll and Zeta jumped up when Buffy and Lucy burst in through the doors carrying a limp Spike. All they could do was stare at their usually strong and secure boss.

"Open the clinic!" Lucy cried out to Zeta.

The dark woman instantly reacted and opened the hidden door that led to the sterile room.

"Troll, we need a protection spell--for his heart."

The elder nodded and left to get his herbs. Zeta instantly went to get the blood bags that were stored in the refrigerator.

Buffy and Lucy eased the vampire down on to the white operating bed in the middle of the room.

Lucy left Buffy to grab the IV lines from the cabinet and approached Zeta who had a fresh bag of blood in her hand.

Buffy was carefully removing his coat, but Zeta stepped in with scissors and simply cut the sleeves to the neck line so the coat could be pulled off.

"What do I do?" Buffy asked the working two.

"Grab the alcohol from the counter and some scalpels, needles, and surgical tweezers.

The slayer nodded and did her best to retrieve the devices.

When she came back Lucy had already injected an IV into Spike's arm, giving him fresh blood.

Zeta was bringing more gauze and a metal object. Buffy preferred not to ask what it was for.

Spike was starting to come back into consciousness. Buffy could see his eyelids start to flutter.

"Buffy?" he asked in a small voice.

Buffy instantly grabbed his limp hand. "I'm here, don't you worry, you're gonna be fine," she said tenderly combing the hair off his brow.

He held her gaze for a moment, nodded and slipped off to unconsciousness.

Buffy bent down and kissed his hand tenderly before letting it go and looking up at the two very intrigued faces of the other women in the room.

"This is surreal." Lucy said shaking her head and spreading out the utensils in the dolly tray.

"What is?" Buffy asked confused.

"You being here, alive. With him. It's like watching a movie...in 3-D," Zeta said what was on her partner's mind.

"Stop doing that!" Lucy exclaimed glancing over her shoulder.

"Sorry, but I can't help it!" the woman cried in her defense.

"Hey! Spike's hurt. Do you have any idea what you're doing?" Buffy asked looking over at the scalpels and needles.

Lucy nodded, "I went to a couple of weeks of medical school."

"A couple of weeks?" Buffy asked horrified.

"For whiz kid, over here, it's like a full year." Zeta smirked.

Troll burst into the room with Loret in tow.

The red head ran past the older man and went directly to the bed were her ex-lover was lying.

"What happened?" she glared at Buffy ignoring the tear tracks on the blonde's face.

Buffy's jaw tightened when the other woman took Spike's hand in hers and did the same gesture that Buffy had done minutes ago.

"He got staked! What the hell does it look like, you bimbo?"

"You were his partner. The purpose of partners is to get you out safely. The only one I see in one piece is you," she retorted.

"It came out of nowhere," Buffy insisted.

"Spike comes out of nowhere, other things don't." She hissed, "You were probably distracting him, talking of other things."

Buffy's lips trembled as she accepted the guilt of Spike's situation. "I didn't mean..."

"Out!! Everyone out!" Lucy cried impatiently. "Only Troll and I stay. Everyone else get out there and kill whoever did this to Spike."

No one moved.

"Spike would have wanted us to," she added.

Both Loret and Buffy glared at each other. The slayer bent down and kissed Spike's wet forehead before inhaling his smell.

"Bring him back un-dusty," she pleaded with Lucy and ignored Loret's amused snort.

Lucy nodded and watched the three women leave.

--

"Both Dalton and Mario are taking care of the south side. I disposed of one in the east side. Three are still roaming around," Loret informed Zeta.

The psychic closed her eyes and concentrated.

"They've spread. A large trooper moved to the north side and is closing in on us. The other two are still on the east side and stationed."

Loret nodded. She grabbed two wood spears from the shelf and tossed one to Buffy. "You head north and get the single one--I get the other two."

"Why?" Buffy questioned.

"Cause I said so." Loret said walking out the door.

Buffy turned to face Zeta.

Before she spoke the other woman knew what she wanted. "North side is up the stairs to the left and I'll contact you in case anything happens to Spike."

Buffy nodded and took a communicator from her. "Creepy."

Zeta nodded. "You have no idea."

--

Spike tried to open his eyes again but a gentle hand closed them.

"Sleep well, old friend," Troll said and the vampire nodded off.

"Let's begin," Lucy said and Troll nodded at her.

--

Buffy scanned the area with all the tricks that Giles had taught her so long ago. She became one with her  
environment. The walls were her skin, the floor her feet, the ceiling her head—when one of them were missing a  
part of her was wrong.

The creature was near by, it was taunting her senses. She followed but not too close—clutching tightly the wood  
spear in her hand. The walls became less cluttered and more expansive and in the dark Buffy could feel that she  
had entered a large tall room.

The movement to her left made her skin prick with anticipation. She turned in fighting position. The vampire was in  
the room—it was an older vampire; it knew how to play with his surroundings. The last vampire she fought who was  
really worth her time was Spike—but that was so long ago she felt alien to a good old-fashioned vampire to slayer  
fight.

She heard a low chuckle-yep definitely old.

"So…if it ain't the cowgirl herself." The German accented creature came into view. It was large and wide-he reminded  
Buffy of a drunk football player.

"What do you say we skip over the "nice to meet you's" and get down to the good stuff. All this chitchat is starting to  
bore me." She smiled still clutching the wood piece into her palm.

The creature laughed and jumped from the railing it was on. It landed gracefully on all fours. He was a cat, hunting for  
the mouse.

He laughed again. "You must be the slayer." He smiled—game face still on. "Always wanted to kill me a slayer."

Buffy smiled. "Really?" she spun around and gave him a surprise kick on the face—he fell back against a metal pole.  
"Maybe today is your lucky day." She punched him with her right hand letting his drop to the side. "Maybe it's not."

He jumped up and kicked her gut sending her rolling on the floor. She smiled, this one ought to be fun.

"I'd say I have a fifty-fifty chance." He punched her, "I like my odds."

Buffy quickly did a cartwheel landing a swift boot-kick on his neck. "So do I."

The vampire grabbed her legs and quickly twisted it, landing Buffy hard on her stomach. She groaned and tried to  
stand up but he sat on her lower back and leaned in to whisper into her ear.

"Tell me, Slayer, you like the work I did on your toy vampire?" he sneered. "I think he looked better with wood carvings."

Hot blood scorched her thoughts and with strength and speed Buffy didn't know she possessed she pushed the  
heavy weight off her sending the vampire smashing against the wall.

"Now you dug your own grave…or should I say your own ash tray?"

The yellow eyes flared and he charged at her, she gave him no time to think and flipped him over her back and landing  
him flat on his spine.

He flipped himself up and smiled at her. "Is that the best you can do? C'mon—give it to me, sing me your song,  
cowgirl."

Buffy's eyes narrowed and she spun in the direction he wasn't expecting, landing behind him in a three-second move.  
"Yippee Kay-ay, mother-fucker."

The wood spear lashed into his heart sending the ashen dust to the floor.

Buffy waiting until the dust settled on the floor and she glared at it. "That's for Spike."

The slayer turned and walked out of the darkness and into the lightening hallway.

--

Buffy was the last one to arrive at the game room; the players were already sitting down doing a report of the situation.

Loret was pacing by the infirmary door and glaring at the slayer when she came in. Mario and Dalton were sitting  
down in front of a hostage. The young fledging was sputtering blood all over the carpeted floor.

Lucy was typing away in her computer and Troll was cleaning up the last herbs from his spell.

"How is he?" she asked Lucy ignoring the looks she got from everyone else.

Lucy looked away from her computer screen, "Sleeping. Troll's spell made him snooze and I made sure all of the  
wood was out." She paused and reached for her coat pocket. "Here," she said, handing Buffy a ring. "You might  
want to make him have this on all the time."

Buffy stared at the ring of Amara in her hand. "Stubborn vampire." She murmured.

"Can I see him?" Loret interrupted.

Lucy looked at Buffy and then at the red head. "I think you should let Buffy see him first and you should be questioning  
our hostage."

Loret's jaw visibly tightened, she turned to look at Buffy. The slayer cocked her head back and dared her to confront  
her.

"Of course, let her break his heart while she's not busy letting him get staked." She hissed and walked away.

Buffy walked to the door and pushed in the cold metal underneath her fingers.

The light had dimmed down to make it more comfortable for Spike. He was laying on the operating bed sound asleep,  
his shirt had been removed and there was a perfect square patch of gauze on top of his heart.

She walked to him and took his limp hand, sliding the ring into his finger. A momentary flash back took her back to  
that day they thought they were to be married.

It had been a perfect day. She had been so happy, at the end of the spell her dreams and hopes had shattered and  
died. He had been perfect then. Now he was full of imperfections. There were so many things she would change, so  
many things she would do over.

_Life is a funny bitch_, she thought.

She felt him stir under her hand. His pallid eyelids fluttered open and he looked disoriented around the room.

"Welcome back, sleepyhead." She smiled at him.

The lost look on his face melted down to a smile on his face. A gentle smile Buffy had only seen on him when he  
had good memories of Drusilla.

"Am I dreaming?" he whispered to her.

She shook her head.

He frowned. "But you're dead." He stated.

Buffy reached out and brushed her fingers across his face. "So are you." She stated. "A very dead vampire with  
no ring."

He frowned at her then closed his eyes again and sighed. "Love you, baby." He murmured and drifted back off to sleep.

She smiled and kissed his cheek. "I know."

His eyes flew open, bright and awake. He was quite aware of what was going on as he sat up and hissed at the cut  
on his chest.

"Lie down, get some rest." She told him trying to push his shoulder back, but he removed her small hands from him  
and shook his head.

"What happened?" he asked her.

She took a seat on the edge of his bed. "You got staked. And you weren't wearing the ring."

Spike looked down at the patch on his chest then at his hand. "Bloody 'ell." He said under his breath.

Buffy nodded and glared at him. "Was there a particular reason why you decided to leave your jewelry home?"

Spike took out the IV from his vein and grabbed the half-empty blood bag.

"Didn't think I would need it." He said and ripped the bag open, drinking its contents in a gulp.

Buffy wrinkled her nose at him. "Gross much?"

He narrowed his eyes at her. "Then leave." He retorted.

Buffy stood up abruptly and spun her heel but was grabbed by her arm and turned to look at the shirt-less vampire.

"We have a hostage." She stated.

He ignored her reply. "How did I get 'ere?"

She shrugged. "Lucy and I carried you."

He nodded and raised his eyebrow. "Why didn't you leave me?" his grip got stronger and she struggled against it.  
"You endangered the mission, put not only your life in danger but the lives of my players, and put my health in priority  
to us getting caught."

Buffy gaped at him with anger and frustration seeping from her eyes. "I…I…"

"Stupid!" he grabbed both her arms. "It 'twas idiotic, Buffy! Someone could've died!"

"That someone could've been you!" she cried back in her defense.

"I don't matter!"

She ripped her self from his grasp and stepped back. "You ungrateful bastard!"

He jumped off the bed and stalked up to her. "Listen to me, pet. I don't save this world on a monthly basis. That's  
your job and them people out 'here." He pointed at the gauze on his chest and ripped it off, revealing an angry red  
line with simple butterfly stitches holding it together. "This. This happens, slayer. I am a liability, you're not."

"I cannot believe that you think so lowly of yourself. You were never like this," she spat back at him.

Spike sighed and grabbed a clean shirt that was folded next to his bed. Hissing as he pulled it over his head Buffy  
moved in to help him pull it over his head.

She smoothed down the wrinkles on his chest and looked up at his startled face.

"Things change." He stated and placed his larger hands over hers that were still resting on his chest. "My life is in  
danger day after day. There's only one reason why I have survived this long."

Questioning green eyes looked up at him.

"I don't care whether I live or die." He whispered and walked past her to the waiting door.

Buffy stayed looking down at her hand, she cradled them to her chest and sighed. The moment she felt that she had  
found him that was the moment she lost him all over again.

--

The expectant players looked up at their boss as he walked back into the room.

Spike's gaze narrowed as he saw the gagged minion in the middle of the room. His eyes were swollen a black and his lips were cracked and bloody, he'd estimated about three broken ribs and maybe a bruised lung. Loret had probably gotten to him before anyone else could.

"I supposed he's said nothing." Spike asked the players.

Mario and Dalton looked down and Zeta walked up to Spike.

"He's scared—but he knows what's good for him. He'll talk, give him a couple of hours with you." She smiled.

Spike smiled at the scared minion. "What's your name, mate?"

The fledgling's jaw tightened.

"Not speaking are we?" he asked and walked up to the body, he squat in front of him and looked at him eye-level.

"Tryin' to be brave, are we?"

The minion said nothing.

"Let's play a game, shall we?"

No answer.

"I ask a question, you give me an answer. If I ask and you ignore then I hurt ya. If I ask and you lie I dust ya." He paused and stared at the trembling figure. "Like my game?"

After a pause he nodded.

"Good! And you said he wouldn't cooperate," he said. "Dalton…bring out the case."

Dalton smiled and brought out a black doctor's bag. He set it on the table to the minion's front. He started emptying the contents.

Holy water, crosses, stakes, toothpicks, knifes, hammer, and whip.

The minion stared at the contents and looked back to the smiling Spike.

The elder vampire reached out and un-gagged him. The minion took a deep breath.

"Shall we begin?" he asked.

Again, no reply.

"Who sent you?" he asked.

No answer.

Spike looked over his shoulder at the man holding a cross.

"Dalton?"

The large man came in front of the minion and smiled. "Would be jast' easier if yah would play, but yuh's insist on being all quiet, so yuh's gonna scream tonight."

The minion's jaw tightened as the skin on his cheek sizzled at the touch of the cross.

Dalton pulled back when the white puss-filled bubbles appeared on the sensitive skin.

"You must really find another hobby." Lucy stated from her corner as she ignored the torture session and continued  
typing the report.

"It's fun." Loret stated as she propped her long legs on the chair across her.

"Yes, the scent of burning skin makes for an excellent room freshener," Zeta commented dryly from her chair.

Loret glared back at the woman and rolled her eyes.

"Ladies, torturing here," Mario reminded them.

Spike ignored them and looked back at the fledgling.

"Do you now remember who sent you?" Spike asked very calmly to the vampire.

"You know who sent me." He answered.

"Oh look, he knows how to speak." Mario commented, dryly.

Spike nodded. "What's your name, mate?"

"David."

"David?"

The fledging nodded.

"Well…David, who sent you?" Spike asked.

The minion looked straight ahead. Without warning Spike back slapped him and sent a mouthful of spit-blood flying, landing on Loret's shirt.

"Fuck!!" she cried out.

Mario and Lucy chuckled at the sight.

Loret stood up and trotted up to the minion, grabbed him by the neck and lifted him in the air.

"Talk now or I'll make you lick your own blood from the floor after I am done with you." She hissed.

The minion laughed, low and un-humorous.

"You think I won't do it?"

"Oh I believe you." He laughed again. "But who the fuck are you?"

She grabbed him tighter. "I'm a bad-ass bitch who don't take no shit from trash like you."

"A no name bitch." He stared icily at her. "And someone I don't care to say my last words to."

Loret threw him across the room and turned to face the vampire behind her.

"Feel better?" Spike asked as he leaned back against the table with his arms crossed at his chest.

"Like you would've done any different?" she retorted.

Spike took out a cigarette and lit it. "No, you're right…but I wouldn't have called myself a bitch." He smirked.

Loret scowled at him and walked away, murmuring curses about her stained shirt.

"Pick 'im up." Spike said to Mario, but Troll intervened and lifted him magically with a transportation spell.

"Sweet." Mario said nodding.

David was sat down, again, on the chair he was at.

"Back to the good stuff." Dalton smiled.

David looked wearily at Spike who squat before him. "Who sent you?"

Bright yellow eyes looked back at placid blue ones who waited patiently.

"Chino."

"Tell me something I don't know," Spike said. "Who's he working with?"

The vampire visibly paled more than he was. "I can't say, man…she'll kill me…or worst…make me crazy."

Spike sighed and turned his head to look at the slayer who had entered the room.

"Just tell us what type of demon I am fighting." She stated, looking hard at the scared fledging.

David dropped his voice to an icy whisper, "She's not a demon…you're fighting a god."

Buffy and Spike both looked at each other in horrid understanding. "Glory," both said at the same time.

--

"I grow weary, I grow bored, and I grow tired."

"Would you like me to belly dance to please you?" Chino asked the blonde sarcastically.

She let go of her strands of hair and turned to look at the patient demon.

"You promised me the slayer." She accused him.

"And I killed you a slayer, what more do you want?" he retorted.

"I want The Slayer" she walked closer to him. "I want Buffy and her precious vampire. I want them broken, I want them bleeding, and I want them dead."

"It's not as easy as you make it seem." He lighted up a thick cigar. "They now have the players, those assholes will beat an army of my men—I lost fifteen today, how many am I going to loose tomorrow?"

She smiled and sat on his lap. "As many as it takes." She licked his wrinkled ear. "For me?"

The old man looked at her with suspicion.

"This is no longer about my key, or getting home. This is about payback, and this time, I'm gonna hit them were it  
hurts."

"Starting with the vampire?" he asked expectantly.

She smiled and ran her hand down his bald scalp.

"Oh, yes. That vampire will suffer, and he'll pay. He'll pay in tears and blood."

Chino smiled at the blonde and kissed her fervently.

Glory pulled back.

"I like the way you think." He commented.

"I know you do." She whispered.

"You want me to start phase three?" he asked acidly.

"Oh yes—there's nothing like the blood of the innocent to get me in a good mood."


	16. The Reason

The Reason--Part 15 of 100 yrs of Solitude (Races condemned to 100 yrs of solitude do not get a second opportunity on earth)

The Reason--Part 15 of 100 yrs of Solitude (Races condemned to 100 yrs of solitude do not get a second opportunity on earth)

By: Isabelle

-Disclaimers: Title belongs entirely to Gabriel Garcia Marquez--just borrowing it for the sake of the story. Buffy, Spike, Whistler and all the memories belong to Joss and his crew. All other characters are entirely mine.

--

The lump in their throats grew thicker as the seconds ticked by and the reality of it solidified in their minds. "Glory?" Buffy whispered.

The minion said nothing. Spike stood up in fury and grasped both sides of his head, twisting it right off. The ashes of the screaming minion were as gentle petals falling to the floor. Spike stared down, hands clenched at his sides. He turned to the stunned room. The players' faces wore an statement of fear; Buffy's an statement of understanding.

"There's time for everything, kiddies. This...is time to kill."

--

Sammy pulled his youngest daughter into an embrace as she ran up to him. "Mi munecita." My little doll, he said as she giggled. Her chubby arms went around his neck as she covered him in kisses.

"You spoil her, Samuel," said Risa as she came up behind him. "What will she do when you're gone?"

"You're leaving, papi?" the child asked.

The man laughed and hugged her closer. "No, mi flor, your papa will stay with you always."

"Samuel, what is that?" his wife pointed at the row of black SUV's driving up their driveway.

It took him three short seconds to react. " To the basement, get the kids--go now! Run!" he cried.

--

Maps and diagrams were spread over the planning table. Lucy took the lead, as she explained where Glory might be hiding. The others listened intently as strategy and layout were decided.

"The south of the city is prominent mafia territory, we all know that. But that is were Chino would know we'd look. The north is too rich--too many politicians and police that can't be paid off."

"Wait!"

All eyes turned to the slayer who stood up timidly.

Buffy's eyes searched the table, then she began. "The last time I tracked Glory down , she was living in a rich part of town. She likes _nice_ places--luxury, the whole God-concept has really gotten to her."

Spike nodded "I agree, she had a pretty fancy place last time—it only makes sense that she'll chose another."

"Agreed by the experts, Mario--you and Zeta head out and search the place, see if you find any clues," said Lucy as she typed on her laptop.

"I want to go!" Buffy announced.

"No--stay here and give Lucy all the pointers on how you defeated Glory," Spike said.

The slayer placed her hands on her hips and glared at him. "You know how I did it. You were there."

"Sorry, pet, but I was busy being thrown off a fifty-foot tower," he spat back.

"You tell her, I'll go do my job." Buffy turned to leave.

Spike's fist hit the table and the lights blinked off and on. "Bloody 'ell!"

Buffy turned around to face a royally pissed off vampire. "You are not my boss!"

"I bloody well am!" Spike insisted.

"You forget, I quit the council long ago, I don't play by the rules," she countered.

"No, you play by my rules, and rule number one say you stay 'ere. I need to pack!" he cried out.

Buffy froze. _Pack?_

"Leaving so soon, cap't?" Mario asked, lighting a cigarette.

Spike's eyes never left Buffy. "Tonight," he said. "I leave tonight."

"Well, good seein' ya, man. Take care, good flight," Dalton said amiably, shaking his hand and patting him on his back.

"Thanks, good job," Spike answered sincerely. The man nodded.

"Want me to put up a protection spell?" Troll asked.

"Sure, you do that." Spike answered as he got to his feet.

Buffy felt like she was shrinking. Can skin shrink, she wondered? She felt the walls closing in around her as she watched his broad back moving towards the elevator. She thought about going after him; she thought about running away. All her life she'd complained about being left alone, left behind. It was happening again, and now it was total and very real. There was no Willow to tell her she'd always be there for her, or to take her for a girls' night out. There was no Xander to stand by her through thick and thin and alleviate her suffering with bad jokes. There was no Mom to hold her and tell her everything was going to be okay, there was no Giles to lecture her on the importance of proper training and vast quantities of knowledge she cared nothing about. There wasn't even Dawn to annoy or protect. There was no Anya to roll eyes at, no Tara to fill her with quiet understanding.

There wasn't Angel to be her doomed lover that she couldn't count on.

And now there wasn't even a Spike on which to vent her anger and frustration. She couldn't beat him down, or call him names, because he was perfect. And he was leaving.

Like her father before him. Like Angel, Riley, Mom, Dawn.

Like all those who had lived their lives and died their deaths and did it all without her.

This time she was truly alone.

--

Glory watched the massacre with a smile on her face.

"My day of Glory has come," she said, looking out over the crying innocents, the blood-splattered grass, and the limp, lifeless bodies.

"And mine," Chino said coming up behind her. He pulled her hair off her neck and started nibbling on her neck.

"All this bloodshed turns me on," she murmured. He licked the rim of her ear.

"Really, _amor_?" he said. He turned her around and slid down the thin silk strap of her red dress. She smiled as he kissed her firm white skin with his wrinkled lips. Placing a hand on either side of his head she leaned in close and whispered, "You know what I do when I'm horny."

The old man continued his ministrations, kissing her along her collarbones in the center of the bloody field.

"I kill."

Before the man could move, the slim hands that had once held him gently twisted his neck . There was the sickening sound of shattered vertebrae. He fell at her feet as she looked on in annoyance.

"That was truly disgusting," she said. She straightened her dress and smoothed her hair, then turned to face Chino's men, their guns positioned to shoot her.

"Hello boys!" she said, smiling. "Your leader is dead. I am your god now. Your most beautiful god, and you'll make sure to remind me as often as you can of about that, okay? Now...the first order of business is to make sure that the vampire finds his friends. I'm thinkin' pictures, you know- living color. Express mail, naturally. Something very artistic. I want true craftsmanship; I want him to feel as if he's right there in the room, smelling their blood, and feeling the heat leak out of their bodies. This has got to be a work of ART, gentlemen. I won't settle for less than your personal best. Do it fast. I grow impatient."

Most of them stared at her as if she had grown two heads.

She sighed, exasperated. "Someone translate! I can't be expected be all Righteous Godly Vengeance _and_ learn Spanish at the same time, can I?"

--

The warm cup of coffee rested in her cupped hands as she watched the players at their various tasks. They were looking to her for guidance now.

"We need to get our forces within their establishment rapidly, " Loret explained to Mario and Dalton that peered over her shoulder unto the map on the table.

"That's plan A," Dalton stated.

"What's plan B?" Zeta asked rolling her chair in front of the rest of her team.

Loret jerked her head at Buffy. "She is."

Buffy paled. All she knew was fighting; she didn't know codes or technologically advanced weapons. "Me?"

"You," Loret stated. She lifted herself onto the high table and crossed her legs.

"What do I do? I've kicked Glory's ass before but it was different. My turf--my conditions, my people." Buffy set her cup down and crossed her arms.

"Don't worry, Barbie, Lucy will give you step by step instructions on what to do. That is, if you can follow orders," she smirked.

Buffy glared at her hard. Several seconds passed before Lucy intervened. "Loret, fuck off. Buffy, come with me." Buffy followed Lucy to the door outside, glaring at Loret all the way.

Once the two women disappeared Mario turned to the red head. "You need a good screw."

Loret smiled suggestively. "You volunteering?"

Mario though for a second, "Yeah, c'mon--back room's empty."

--

"What is it?" Buffy asked confused as she followed the brunette up the stairs.

"Just follow," she replied.

Buffy sighed mumbled under her breath. They reached the top floor. Buffy recognized the door to Spike's penthouse. She backed up. "What are we doing here?" she asked.

Lucy sighed and pulled out a cigarette. She lit it and stared at Buffy. "He's leaving," she said.

A cool mask settled over Buffy's features. "I know."

Lucy stared at her. "Let me tell you a story, slayer. I once met a man who was perfect. He was gentle, he was smart, and he had sad brown eyes that made me drown in them. And he loved me. I loved him. While I was with him I met another man, and our first conversation was an argument. God knows that every conversation after that was an argument--he had my own personality. Now I know I am not the sweetest fruit in the basket but like you I have something that most women lack. Respect for myself and personality. And this other man--he not only loved my wit he enjoyed everything that was me. He knew I was smarter than him and he stood by my side, we fought--and often, but he was always there. When my first love left he was there--reluctantly we became friends. One day I realized that he was in love with me--he must have been in love with me for years. It made me afraid, and I did something foolish. I made sure he saw me with another man. That night he left, and you know what I realized when I saw his pained face? I realized that I loved him. I let him walk away--because I was afraid, because I still am."

Buffy felt the pain of the woman before her radiate towards her. "Why don't you go after him?"

Lucy closed her eyes and smiled. "I did."

Buffy smiled at her.

"But I found his grave." Tears pricked at reddened eyes. "He died--he was a soldier and he died for his country."

"I am sorry," Buffy whispered as she felt her own eyes tear up.

Lucy composed herself. "Some people say you only love once--only once truly."

She exhaled her smoke. "But I say that's bullshit. People can learn to love more than once...but only once in your life do you meet someone so alike you it hurts to even admit that you give a damn about them. Only once."

"So that's your reason?" Buffy asked. "For the attitude."

"Yup,...what's yours?" she challenged.

Buffy was taken back, "What do you mean?"

Lucy stared at her without saying anything, she stared until Buffy sighed.

"Why are you doing this?" the slayer asked.

Lucy smiled and stubbed out her smoke. She opened the door for Buffy. "Let's just say there's still a little girl inside of me who wants an ending to her favorite fairy tale."

Buffy cringed. "I see."

"Go, If you don't, you will regret it."

This felt like a sudden flashback to Buffy, she was again standing in front of Xander as he gave her a long speech about Riley.

Then she saw herself running, she ran to find him--but it was too late. Riley had left. Fire sparked back into the green eyes and Lucy almost stumbled backwards at the intensity in them. The blonde slayer looked at her with a gaze of pure thanks and almost leaped into the door.

Lucy stared after the running girl and smiled. Memories with tears came to her but she pushed them back--it was her time to move on.

--

The knock startled the players as they looked at the monitor in time to see a package being dropped off at the entrance of the building. The truck looked like any other UPS carrier, and the brown-dressed man looked like any other deliveryman.

But they knew better. "Bomb?" asked Dalton to Zeta who concentrated on her surroundings.

They waited for a couple of seconds until the brown-eyed woman opened her eyes. "No--just papers."

Troll cocked his head. "There is no evil around it so there is no spell of any sort."

"Just papers?" Mario asked as he combed his rumpled hair.

"Just papers," Zeta confirmed.

"Strange," Lucy said as she scanned the area with her laptop.

"Smells like shit, if you ask me," Loret responded.

"Good Lawd, 'oman!" Dalton cried out. "Yuh should wash yuh mouth out with soap, all ah heayuh outta you is cussin'"

Loret smiled. "That's part of my charm."

"We should tell Spike," Troll suggested.

"Spike is busy," Lucy responded quickly.

"Where's Buffy?" Mario asked.

"She's also busy," Lucy smiled.

"So they're busy...together?" Loret asked cocking her eyebrow.

Lucy gave her an innocent look. "Probably--it's not my place to question with whom either one of them gets busy. Neither is it yours."

Loret glared at her. "Then you go and get the package."

"Glad to," Lucy responded and placed down her headphones, standing up to walk to the door.

"Be careful," Zeta called after her.

--

"You're leaving?"

Spike turned around slowly to face a slayer whose face he couldn't read. He looked down at the cashmere polo he had in his hand and then dumped it into the open leather case.

"Yes," he stated.

Buffy looked down at her hands, her knuckles were turned white--and she knew she was trembling. In a voice so low only a vampire could hear it she asked him. "Why?"

Spike sat down on the bed and sighed. "Because...this is the way it goes."

"The way it goes?" she asked, her eyes were now getting watery with fresh tears.

Spike played with the ring on his finger as he tried to avoid her eyes. "We've discussed this before."

Anger rose in the pit of her stomach. How could he infuriate her so much in such a short period of time? "We've discussed nothing! 'You' said and 'you've' made the decision. What I thought and what I wanted meant shit to you." Her fist balled at her sides as she struggled to control her anger.

Spike stood up and lit a cigarette. "Because it doesn't concern you," he said. He paced around the room, irritated with her behavior.

"Concern me? You made this mess. Now you're throwing all the trash on me, running off to Spain, off to your whores!" She screamed at him.

"Bloody 'ell!" he cried out looking at her in disbelief.

"Yes, bloody hell! You're leaving," she paused. "You're leaving us...you're leaving me." she managed to whisper.

He looked at her pained eyes and turned away. He was sure he knew were this was going. "So you need me to help out in the Glory-bint fight?" he asked as he exhaled the smoke.

"Spike..."

"Or maybe you need me to stand by you so we can kick hell bitch's ass once and for all?"

"No..."

"Maybe you just need some type of a security...Spike is there , hey, no worries."

"That is not..." she was getting angry and frustrated with him.

"Say it!" he shouted, grabbing her shoulder and shaking her. "Why can't you say it?"

"That's not it, that's not the reason!" she cried out, tears slipping down her cheeks. Why did her life always have to be so damn dramatic?

"I know that. Say it! Say you need me to stay because you need me, you need my help, I am the only one strong enough, wise enough to even stand a chance!" He shook her harder.

"I love you!"

She stood stunned--more so than him. Those words had actually come from her mouth?

He said nothing but just stared at the mouth that had actually said the words. He was certain he was dreaming.

"There...I said it." She sniffed as his grip loosed on her upper arms. "I need you because I love...I love you. Nothing more...nothing less." She looked down at her feet, suddenly very interested in her bootlaces. Spike studied her bent head. His mouth hung open but no words would come. He swallowed hard, and the silence seemed to stretch out between them. Finally it broke with the sound of his voice.

"What game are you playing, slayer?"

Her head snapped up. Hurt eyes searched his confused face. "What do you mean?"

"I know you don't- I know you'll never love me...I've learned to accept that," he said.

Buffy took a seat on his bed and sighed. "I should have told you that night...I'm sorry."

"That night?...What the hell do you mean?" he asked now clearly more bewildered than he had been.

"I...well you see..." she finally met his eyes. "That night...the night of the fight. You told me you would protect Dawn until the end...and you did. But I knew you would--never doubted it for a second. That's when I knew."

"You knew what, luv?" he asked, his knees weak as he slowly knelt before her.

She reached out and gently ran her finger through his gelled hair. He closed his eyes and leaned into her touch. He felt he was flying--there was no way life would get this good--never for him.

"That I loved you...but I never said it. I always thought there would be tomorrow, and the next day. But I guess there wasn't," she whispered.

A single painful tear escaped his closed eyes. She reached out and kissed it away. "I am sorry," she said to him.

He shook his head as he leaned his head into her chest and sighed. "It was worth it."

She wrapped her arms around this man that had lived so long without her and loved her all the while. The thought filled her with warmth and she sighed with him. He wrapped his arms around his slim waist and drank in her presence. "I would have waited another 100 years to hear you say those words."

She was stunned. She lifted his head and looked into his blue eyes. "Why?"

He kissed her lightly on her trembling lips. "Because you're worth it," Spike whispered against her skin. She smiled and leaned in to kiss him again when they were interrupted by a loud bang to the bedroom door. Spike groaned and glared back at the door. "Go 'way, I'm busy 'ere!"

Buffy giggled but brought her hand to her mouth so the intruder wouldn't hear her.

"Spike--NOW!!"

The voice belonged to Lucy, Buffy jumped. She knew the woman wouldn't interrupt them unless it was an emergency. The vampire reluctantly left his love's arms and yanked the door open. "Someone better be dead."

The tear streaked face of the woman before him and the pictures she was shoving at him gave him the answers he needed. Buffy stood behind the vampire as he looked carefully over the pictures.

He didn't move, he just looked from one picture to another. "I'm sorry," Buffy heard Lucy whisper.

The slayer instantly stood next to him and looked over the pictures. She felt bile rise to her throat. Dead--they were all dead. She hardly recognized the bloody dead face of Sammy, naked, holding his dead naked wife. The children and servants--dead. It was a blood bath.

At the back, behind the photographs, was a handwritten note in pretty script.

_A little welcome back present, precious._

_Glory_

Spike dropped the pictures.

Buffy looked at him.

His jaw was so tight, she though it might break. There was rage behind those blue eyes that had looked at her so tenderly moments ago. "Oh god, Spike." she whispered, stroking his arm lightly.

He didn't answer but ran past her to the stairs.

"Spike!" she cried out after him. "Wait!"

With tears and pain in her heart she raced after him.


	17. Voiceless

The Reason--Part 15 of 100 yrs of Solitude (Races condemned to 100 yrs of solitude do not get a second opportunity on earth)

Voiceless--Part 16 of 100 yrs of Solitude (Races condemned to 100 yrs of solitude do not get a second opportunity on earth)

By: Isabelle

-Disclaimers: Title belongs entirely to Gabriel Garcia Marquez--just borrowing it for the sake of the story. Buffy, Spike, Whistler and all the memories belong to Joss and his crew. All other characters are entirely mine. Lyrics are by Meredith Brooks, "I Watched You Fall", and are sued without permission.

--

She had no idea where he was going—but her guess was probably as accurate as they came. He had jumped on his Dukati, again, and if it were not for her superhuman speed she would have lost him.

He rode past the path they came by—she knew this because she recognized the cliffs they rode a few days ago. Only this time they looked darker and terrifying. They spoke of dark tales and cursed lovers. They whispered nightmares one could not awaken from.

Whispers that come in voiceless actions yet torment thoughts like screams in the night.

She clutched on to him feeding him the little emotional strength she had left. She felt drained—and the way still lay ahead.

--

Spike had gone numb the moment he saw the pictures. He felt he was walking down a dark tunnel—he knew somewhere in the distance lay the light that would save him but the walk was what frightened him the most.

He felt Buffy's presence—he knew she was there, but it felt surreal.

When had things gone wrong? One moment he was having the best moment he had in decades, and the next he felt his heart ripping from its position.

All he could do to grasp reality was once in a while feel Buffy's arms around his waist—her head resting on his back. That was the feeling that told him it was real.

They were dead.

He knew it in the pit of his stomach—like a burning coal that slipped past his lips and devoured him from the inside out.

He cursed his humanity. He knew that these people would die someday—he had pushed emotional feelings aside…but how could he resist such warmth. They made him feel like he was alive again, like no soul was needed.

Pain gashed at his thoughts—it was all too real. He had never been a man to deny reality…on the contrary he saw it first hand and accepted it before anyone else.

When Buffy had died he had been the first to admit that she was gone—it took the others time…but the moment he saw her body he knew she was gone.

When it had come time to turn against his dark princess and his grandsire—making him join forces with his enemy, he had accepted it.

When Dawn had died he was the one who had kissed her forehead and pronounced her dead. When Red died he had been the one to call the ambulance—when the whelp died he had been the one to tell Anya.

People died…humans died.

Eventually all would be ripped from his hands—love was something he had to hold within himself…the moment he loved, love fled and left.

Love held him now, love he didn't know possible. Golden waves of hair that danced in the warm wind and rooted it self in a small powerful figure.

As they approached the house he smelled the blood.

His stomach turned and he slowed down. He stopped at the gate. The path lay ahead.

--

_You were my wild companion  
We were forever high, high, high  
We burned the night around us  
Sleeping could wait until we died _

Buffy stood still as he stopped the bike. She saw the blood splattered on the concrete…the air was thick with death.

She descended first, looking back at the mourning vampire—his head was slumped and he held on to the bike's handle until his knuckles appeared to break.

She reached out her own warm hand and took his. He looked up to her surprised.

"You're not alone," she said.

--

_You wear the scars of passion  
And since the crashing came  
You've broken every promise  
I walked away_

He heard her say: You're not alone.

Was it real? The world seemed smaller and clustered.

Where had the sun gone? He always liked the sun.

He felt her tug at his hand.

--

_I watched you fall  
I was blind to ya  
Was lying to ya  
Like everybody else who watched you fall  
Say they love you but they're laughing  
When you crawl_

She saw he had shut himself down—she knew this because she did it when her mother died.

"You don't have to go—we'll call the police."

He looked back at her.

--

Fields were bright in the summer—he loved the summer sun…the smell of the fresh Hibiscus and Gardenias in the air—gentle breeze.

He turned and they were waiting for him.

"Vente, mi hijo," (Come, my son.) Risa said smiling. Her hair was down—long thick and black, curling softly at the ends. She rarely wore it down. He loved when she wore it down—her shampoo smelled of coconut and he loved it.

She smiled, and he couldn't help but smile back. The children danced and played on the grass, soft grass that smelled freshly cut. Sammy came riding on his pinto—Junior held on tight to his papa.

"Come home with us, Spike," the little boy called.

Spike's eyes watered—he knew this wasn't real. The powers had not spoken to him in a long time—but visions came along with the whole package.

Could upper beings be so cruel?

He saw Val and Felipe walking behind and waving at him. He had seen them grow up. They were mere children the other day.

Now they were dead.

He felt a hand placed gently on his arms, his eyes turned to the bearer of the touch.

Rita stood before him…not as the old wise woman he last saw but as the young girl in her late teens. She had been so beautiful. Thick brown hair that curled in tight coils, framing her olive face that sparkled with life.

"Rita," he breathed out before he clutched on to her—inhaling her scent.

She caressed the back of his neck, murmuring comfort words in Spanish.

When he pulled back he realized he had been crying.

She smiled at him— crocked front teeth greeted him. He couldn't help but smile back. She felt so real.

"Find her, William, she is not among us," she said. "She that is not among us, she that is special. Pure lights runs through her veins. She was made out of the good that was evil and the strength that never ends," she whispered.

Spike's brow furrowed. He hated riddles and he knew this vision was trying to tell him something.

She that is not among us? He pondered.

He looked around at the people that laughed in and ran with no care in the world.

Who was missing?

His brain worked at full speed.

"You have a short time," Rita said. "Trust your instincts."

The Impressionist picture before him evaporated and he found himself curled up in a ball on the warm grass, sobbing uncontrollably.

There was a warmth that surrounded him. He looked up and realized it was Buffy. She was crouched down on the floor, holding him to her and softly running her hands though his hair and over his back.

She said nothing, just comforted him with her presence.

He had no idea how he got there—all he knew was there—and whimpers escaped his mouth unfiltered.

He tried to re-compose himself.

"What was it?" she asked, concerned.

He looked around—the scent of blood was still in the air, so thick he could almost taste it.

"A vision," he stated, as he leaned into her shoulder.

"You get those a lot," she said.

"Only when they're trying to tell me something," he answered, he would have smiled as she wiped tenderly the tears from his cheeks but the pain in his chest was overwhelming.

"What did they say?" she inquired, as he sat up to compose himself.

The message came fumbling back into his thoughts.

He had to find she that was not among them.

"She that was not among them," he whispered.

"What?" Buffy asked confused.

"I have to find 'er," Spike said standing up.

"Who?"

Spike thought for a moment…who was missing? He felt the answer was a second away. Risa, Sammy, Val, Junior, Felipe, and Rita.

The answer hit him like a ton of bricks. He almost fell on his butt again.

"Vanessa," he whispered in desperation.

--

Dark.

It was so dark.

Her father told her to stay there until Spike found her. She waited. All she could do to calm herself was hold on to her knees with her chubby arms and rock back and forth.

Eyes fixed on nothing but the door he would soon find.

It was so dark.

--

_It's such a weary feeling  
When you've been stealing from yourself  
Wishing the world away  
Blaming someone else_

Spike and Buffy searched frantically through the structure. He yelled out her name and ignored the bodies of those people they cared about.

Their one concern was to find the little girl.

The found each other—both had come up empty handed.

"Oh God, Spike, she must be so scared," Buffy said desperately. The little girl was only five—and all alone in the world at the moment.

"She's gotta be hidin' or they hid 'er," Spike looked around.

"Vanessa!" he yelled, opening closet doors and looking under tables. "Baby, it's me. No one is gonna hurt you, pet."

"I think they hid her," Buffy said as she opened another door and found an empty room.

"But where?" he thought out loud. "Think, Spike, think," he massaged his temples in frustration.

"Where would they hide her?" she asked him. "I mean the only place that is secret is that cave where your weapons are at."

Spike looked at her—epiphany written all over his face. It was a clear message. They both ran.

--

"Vanessa!!" Spike cried out as Buffy and he ran down the tunnel that led to the secret weapons chamber.

The slayer with her heart in her throat and the vampire with thoughts running wild.

They reached the door through the darkness that consumed them, and there it was. The cold metallic door that held the child.

They didn't have the key, but they could do it--with their strength they could do it.

"Let's pull on the latch," Buffy suggested as she tried to catch her breath.

He nodded and they both grabbed the handle pulling with all their might.

No bulge.

--

The darkness had sound.

The sound of voices she knew.

She sat up and looked at the door.

He was here--she could tell, her soft skin shouted it to her.

She blinked twice before her eyes adjusted to the light.

"Spike?" it was a mere whisper.

The pulling of the handle made her jump from her position.

She ran to the door and cried out, tears springing to her eyes.

"Spike!"

--

Buffy's heart stopped as they both heard the little voice from the inside.

She was desperate, frightened and confused.

"Vanessa!" Spike banged at the door.

Buffy looked at his desperation. He stared back.

They both looked at each other in silent understanding, and with all their might they pulled until it snapped open--tearing iron from the lock.

The door opened slowly and the slayer pulled it towards her while Spike turned to the inside.

Before Buffy knew it Spike was on his knees, holding the little sobbing girl to his chest.

She sank down on her knees in relief.

She was alive.

The manly vampire was sobbing along with the child, whispering that everything was going to be alright.

Buffy stared in wonder. They lost everyone and the only seed left was this tiny defenseless one.

She silently swore to protect her with her life.

_No one can do this for you  
Straighten your head, fix your faith  
Take all the pain inside you  
Wash it away_

Spike kissed the girl's head--reassuring himself that she was still there. Vanessa wrapped her tiny legs around his torso and would not let him go.

"I knew you would come, daddy said so," she whimpered against his chest.

"I'll always come, baby," he reassured her, kissing her tiny head again.

Buffy could have melted at the moment.

She wanted to wrap herself in his arms and stay there. She would bet money against anyone who argued that he had no soul. He didn't need one, he had more than that.

Call it humanity, call it heart, call it a conscience. Whatever it was he had it, and she loved him for it--this tiny child loved him for it.

She let them hold each other, once in a while rubbing her hand comfortingly across his back and tucking Vanessa's hair behind her ear.

The child finally recognized her, bright green eyes looked back at her.

Buffy was taken back at the color and the determination in them. She was a strong little girl that knew much more than what she led on.

She felt she knew those eyes from somewhere but she couldn't place exactly were she had seen them at.

"You're the slayer," the child stated.

Buffy smiled at her and tugged her hair behind her ear again. Vanessa sniffed and wiped her tears away with the back of her hand.

"Yes, I am,' Buffy said soothingly.

Vanessa swallowed and look back at Spike.

"They're gone, aren't they?" she asked in a tiny voice.

Spike took a deep breath and nodded.

A tear ran down his face.

A little hand came out and wiped it clean, then little lips touched the spot the tear had held with a peck.

Spike tried to smile.

"Don't cry, Spike," the little child said. "Mommy always said that when people died they went to heaven, and someday we would all be in heaven together. You just have to wait--you'll see them again."

Buffy had to bite her lip and cross her arms to keep herself from holding her closely.

Spike kissed her forehead. "I know, pet, just need someone smart like you to remind me of it."

The little girl laid her head against his chest. "Will you and the slayer take care of me now?"

"Buffy, her name is Buffy," Spike said softly rocking her. "And we'll take care of you, I promise."

Vanessa gently closed her eyes.

Spike looked at Buffy once s he had fallen asleep.

"Take 'er," he said lifting her up and handing her to Buffy.

Buffy cradled the sleeping girl to her chest and continued rocking her the way Spike had done.

"Take 'er out to the bike and don't let her see," he said.

Buffy nodded and kissed her forehead.

Spike stood in front of her, a look of devastation in his eyes.

"Spike..." Buffy started.

"I'm going to kill 'er. When I find her I will kill 'er. This was my family, Buffy. She killed my family," he choked. "They were innocents." He looked down at the sleeping child. "She's an innocent. I have seen many nasty things in my life, but I hate to see the face of war on women and children."

"We'll find her," Buffy reassured him.

"I know we will." he turned and Buffy felt her heart heavy with the pain he was feeling.

He stopped and turned back to her. He walked slowly to her and leaned in.

Buffy froze as his lips lightly brushed against his.

It was a mere brush but it sent shivers up and down her spine.

"Thank you," he whispered as he pulled back.

She could only stare at his face. He was in turmoil yet he managed to stay calm and relaxed.

"You're welcome," she said back and gave him a comforting smile.

He nodded and took her elbow gently as they waked out of the tunnel.

--

Helicopter lights lit the grass and the sirens were heard from far away. Spike had taken the girls to an un-affected room. Vanessa fell asleep cradled in Buffy's arms as the slayer gently combed her brown curls.

"'bout time," Spike said under his breath as he walked to the window and saw the approaching sirens.

"Should I wake her?" Buffy asked.

Spike looked back at her and frowned. "She's tired," he said. He had gone out and made sure no one was alive, covering the nude corpses of the women he had cared so much for, and calling the police to report the incident. He also called his friend, the Bogotá representative, who was acquainted with the family.

He walked over to the bed and picked up the small child, cradling her to his chest. She shifted in her sleep but the small content smile came back to her face.

He placed a small kiss on the top of her head, and looked back to Buffy.

She was smiling at him, a sad smile.

"What, slayer?" he asked looking at her.

"Nothing...just that you would have made a great father," she said sadly.

Spike's eyes sagged, then he looked at the little figure in his arms and the twinkle came back to them. "Guess now I am."

Buffy eyes widened. "You're gonna keep her?" she asked astonished.

Spike gave her an unbelieving look. "Of course I am!" he cried.

Buffy retreated and blushed. "I mean of course you are. Sorry."

"Until she don't need me anymore," he said.

Buffy smiled shyly. "Jeez, you're loyal aren't you."

Spike was taken back by the question.

"She's a lucky girl," Buffy added. "My father was not so good looking."

Spike had the decency to look confused--then realization sweapt through him. "Are you flirting with me, Summers?" he asked teasingly.

Buffy smiled and cupped his cheek. "Maybe."

Spike relaxed for what seemed like years as he leaned into her touch. "Gotta teach you some pointers."

The moment was broken when the sirens got closer to the house and with a wordless unity they walked out to meet them.

--

"I love being a god," she said reclining into her velvet sofa.

"I would too," the woman said. "Yet, I must say it was rather harsh."

Glory looked at the woman. "I thought you hated him?"

The woman crossed her legs and lit a cigarette. "One hates what one loves...'ain't love grand?"

Glory laughed. "I might not have my powers, but I know how to pick stray hurt victims that do my dirty work."

The other woman crushed the cigarette under her boot with fury. "I do no such thing!"

"What's wrong, sweetheart, dipped the salt on the wound?"

"I might be working for you, but I am still my own woman. You got your fun, I want to have mine."

Glory smiled. "Don't worry, Loret, the slayer...will get what's coming to her."

--

"How are you holding up?" Javier Ferrer asked as the vampire sat down across from him.

Spike took out a cigarette and the state representative instantly lit it for him.

"Thanks, mate," he said as he blew out the smoke.

Spike took an unnecessary breath and looked at Buffy who was skeptical of the man in the suit with the four bodyguards. "We're holding up," he said looking at her. She had dark shadows under her eyes and her hair was limp and dead. It reminded Spike of the last days she was alive. Glory sure knew how to hit the right buttons.

"Good, if you need anything, all you have to do is ask. If you need men--I've got them, anything you need, Mr. Rawlings.

Spike groaned. "Javier, call me Spike. Simple--learn it."

The man nodded ambiguously. "Sure thing...Spike." It felt strange to address a man of such importance with such informality but if it was his wishes he would gladly do it.

Javier took a deep breath. "I got some information," he said extending his hand. His assistant handed him a manila folder.

"What type?"

Javier's face shifted to serious. He snapped his fingers and his entire crew exited the room.

"That serious?" Spike asked raising an eyebrow.

Javier leaned forward. "I have no idea what this god is planning--she killed Chino. Therefore we don't know how much the old man knew."

"Knew about what?" Buffy broke her silence.

Javier took out a cigar and promptly lit it. He took a deep breath. "This target was coordinated. For the hellgod it was payback--for someone else it was strategy."

"What else are we dealing with?" Spike asked leaning forward.

"The case of...destiny," he said.

"Bloody 'ell, mate! You sound like unsolved mysteries!" Spike fumed. "Spit it out!"

"You see, your friend Samuel kept one secret from you, only one."

Buffy eyes the folder in his hand. "What was that?"

Javier rested his cigar on the glass ash tray and took out the papers inside.

"This is an ancient prophesy called Matusalen, taken from the council's bolt in 89'. It contained the formula for the salvation on this world in the year 2120. It dates back to 7,000 B.C. And the words are simple. One shall be born out of the good that was evil and the strength that never ends."

Spike's borrowed blood froze. The same words that the vision had told him. "Of the good that was evil and the strength that never ends?"

Javier nodded and smiled cryptically.

"Vanessa," Spike whispered.

"She's special, Spike. On those tiny shoulders rest the world. I can see the powers have aligned destiny to a T."

"What do you mean?" Buffy asked, clearly confused.

"Why do you think you were brought back, Miss. Summers?" he challenged.

"Big baddies, world needs my help--the usual," Buffy retorted.

"You take life too casually."

Buffy's lips tightened. "I have no choice."

"What if I told you that I relieve you of your slayer duties?"

Buffy and Spike froze.

"Ok, who the hell do you think you are, Mr. representative-you! One moment we're talking prophecies the next you're in my life," she cried out to him.

"Don't you see that they both correlate?" he retorted.

"Why don't you stop talking like the tree of wisdom and maybe I'll understand."

"Here," Javier said shoving papers at Buffy and Spike.

Spike studied the papers. They were blood test, Vanessa Toro's blood test.

"What is this?" Spike asked, now impatient.

"Mutation. A simple genetic mutation." he answered.

"You're saying she's not human?" Buffy asked looking at the copy of the test.

"Look," he said pointing at the numbers and letters Spike could hardly understand. "The human body contain red and white blood cells--that's the structure of out bodies--therefore the only cells that should show up on a healthy human are these two. But...Vanessa's blood not only contained red and white, but she contained pink."

"Pink?" Buffy asked, twitching her nose.

"It's simple Crayola, Miss Summers. What does a good little girl get when she mixes red and white?"

"Pink, vampires have pink cells. The mixture--it's how we survive," he said looking dazed and confused.

"Bingo!" Javier exclaimed.

"So she's a vampire?" Buffy was beyond confused.

"A mutant. The first of her kind. The future." he whispered.

"But Sammy and Risa were normal..." Spike said thoughtful.

Javier smiled and took the cigar in his mouth. Leaning back he stared at the pair.

"Don't you see? She was not their daughter...she was yours, the both of you. The daughter of a vampire and a slayer--genetically made."


	18. Fairground

The Reason--Part 15 of 100 yrs of Solitude (Races condemned to 100 yrs of solitude do not get a second opportunity on earth)

Fairground--Part 17 of 100 yrs of Solitude (Races condemned to 100 yrs of solitude do not get a second opportunity on earth)

By: Isabelle

-Disclaimers: Title belongs entirely to Gabriel Garcia Marquez--just borrowing it for the sake of the story. Buffy, Spike, Whistler and all the memories belong to Joss and his crew. All other characters are entirely mine.

--

Buffy stood and promptly punched the representative on the eye. The man fell back and hit his head with the floor making his guards come in trying to restrain the brassed-off slayer.

"You asshole!" she screamed at him. Spike just sat on the chair looking at the blood test before him.

Three guards grabbed her as she fought—kicking and punching wildly at them. "Stop!" Javier demanded.

Buffy stopped—she was breathing heavily as tears ran down her cheeks. The men that held her arms waited for the order to throw her into a cell.

"Let her go," the man said, taking the napkin his assistant offered. He wiped his face clean of blood. "I am sorry I had to be the one to tell you, but I would think that you'd prefer to know the truth. Or do you like living with a lie?"

Buffy shook off the guards. They moved away from her warily. Her voice trembled with tears. "This is our lives you've screwed around with. How dare you? How dare you take something so sacred from us, and use it to your own ends? What is wrong with you people?" She spat the words at him viciously.

"We didn't-"

She cut him off. "Bullshit—I don't give a crap what you were thinking, you did it, and you did it illegally," she said. One hand came up to wipe at the blood on her lip. Shuffling footsteps broke the silence as the guards decided it was a good time to withdraw. Javier's assistant looked to his boss uncertainly.

"Go on, I will handle this. It will be okay," Javier reassured him.

"Oh yeah, you'll be ok—but we're screwed," said Buffy, glaring icily at the man.

"Miss Summers, please try to understand-"

He was interrupted again, this time by the low whisper of the only other person in the room.

"I have a daughter?" Spike spoke softly, disbelief in his hushed tone.

Buffy finally gained control of herself. She gave Javier a final glare before she turned and knelt before the vampire. "Hey," she said, taking the papers from him gently. He looked up at her, eyes soft and glassy. "We have a daughter," he whispered. The statement brought tears to her eyes as she nodded.

"And someone is going to explain why," she said as she took his hand and looked over her shoulder at the man cowering behind the desk.

--

"I say they liked my present," Glory said, watching the small camera hidden in Javier's office.

"I'd say she was pissed," Loret answered, lighting a cigarette.

"Well, that too, but over all I'd say things went…rather well."

Loret snorted and grabbed her bag. "Better get going—don't want anyone to notice I've been gone for too long," she said, hoisting the leather over her shoulder.

"I love this!" Glory exclaimed as she rubbed her hands together and smiled. "Right under their noses and they don't even see it! Classic! They must really hate me right about now," she said dreamily.

"I must say, bringing you back was not a bad idea." Loret smiled at her. "I always hate doing things by the book."

"Yes, but you could have at least given me my powers," said Glory bitterly. She draped a black scarf around her shoulder experimentally.

"You try finding a nail of a yathi in this day and age and I'll give you back your powers. 'Sides, Mayan spells are tricky—you should be grateful you look nothing like your old self." She smiled "They'll have no idea who hit 'em." She frowned a little. "No. Not that one." She gestured at the pile of fabric alongside the other woman. "Maybe the red."

Glory exhaled dramatically. "I must say—I hate the straight black hair, it's just not me. But the black eyes—now that took sculpting, and it makes me look really good with red lipstick." She fished in the pile of silk, and slid the desired one over her arm. " Yep, red is definitely a brunette's color."

--

"What da'hell do you suppose takin'em so long?" Dalton asked, pacing up and down the room.

Zeta took a sip from the green tea Lucy made and shrugged. "They must be in pain."

"But we've got a job to do. This is no time to mourn," Mario commented as he cleaned his rifle.

"They wont be mourning," Lucy said. She hoisted herself up onto the kitchen counter. "They will be pissed."

--

"So let me get this straight. The council preserved my blood and blood from all the other slayers, since they didn't know to whom the prophecy belonged. And they took the liberty of not only creating her, but also raising her away from us. I mean, I was dead but Spike—he had every right to her! How could you do that to him?"

"Desperate times call for desperate measures, Miss Summers. We look out for the future of the people. We had their best interests in mind. Surely you understand that. " He spoke slowly, as if he thought her incapable of understanding him at all.

"What I understand, Mr. Ferrer is that you stole from us. From two people who had ALREADY given themselves completely for the "future of the people." You have not only placed our lives in danger, but the life of a little girl and her guardians- people we care about. All of this for a run at the next election?" Buffy's anger boiled inside her. "You're a piece of work, a real piece of work."

"I understand why you would be upset Miss Summers, but you have to understand just what it was we were working for. We had the noblest of intentions-"

"Get out," said Spike.

"I would think that you of all people, Mr. Rawlings, would see the benefits of such a technological break through. "

Spike stood up and glowered at the man. "Go back to your office and clean it up. Tonight you will make a statement to the PDWC (Political Democratic World Council), stating that you are resigning your position as the international Latin American representative. You and your staff will leave the headquarters tonight and I never, and I mean never want to see your face again. You will take my advice unless you want to find your face printed in the missing persons column of the World Times."

Javier stared back at the man in shock. "You gave me my position."

"And a grave mistake that was," Spike said. He reached out his hand to Buffy. She took it, lacing their fingers together. They walked out of the room without giving it a backward glance.

--

Spike stopped the black government SUV in front of the church steps. Buffy sat in the passenger seat with Vanessa sleeping across her lap. He looked over at them , his heart constricting almost painfully. His women- his love and his daughter.

"What are we doing here?" Buffy asked. She studied the view outside with confusion.

He nodded towards the antiquated building. "Take her in there, and see Padre Berrios, he'll know what to do," he said, unclasping his seat belt.

Buffy's brow furrowed. "A _padre_?"

"I want her blessed. We don't know what else is out there, what else might want a piece of her," he said.

Buffy nodded and prodded Vanessa awake. "Honey, wake up," she said. Gently and she ran her hand down the baby-soft locks.

The little girl sat up and blinked. "Are there yet?" she asked sleepily.

"Well, we're someplace you two need t'be." Spike stated as she crossed the passenger side and climbed on his lap.

She rested her head against his shoulder. "Won't you come?" she asked, idly toying with the sleeve of his shirt.

"Can't go in there, pet. You know that." He kissed her head. "You go on with Buffy."

They watched as she considered it, and Buffy felt a weird stab at her heart. Her daughter had no idea who she was, and didn't fully trust her. Silently she cursed the people responsible for this situation, and the government that tolerated such abuses.

"Ok," she simply said and followed Buffy as she climbed out of the car. Gingerly Vanessa took Buffy's hand as she climbed out of the car, and together they walked up the cobbled walkway towards the building's entrance.

Spike watched them go. It had been a hell of a day. He cursed and took out his illegal cigarettes; lighting one, he relaxed on the seat and waited for the girls to come back.

--

Buffy felt uncomfortable in churches. Not that she had anything against them- rather, she had never gone to one regularly when she was small. Now she swallowed awkwardly as she surveyed their surroundings. It was an old church, and almost deserted at this time of day.

She felt the little girl lean closer to her and clutch her hand tighter. "Don't be afraid, sweetheart. I won't let anything happen to you," she said, wrapping her arms across her small shoulders.

A small woman came briskly out of a rear door and approached them with a smile on her face.

"Buenas noches, que Dios les bendiga," said the nun.

Buffy stammered- she had no idea what was just said. "I don't speak Spanish, English?"

The woman smiled. "Of course, I am Sister Maria Theresa, how can I help you ladies today?"

Buffy sighed with relief. "We need to see Padre Berrios."

The nun's face hardened and she backed up. "No one, sees Padre Berrios, Senorita."

Buffy held up her hand trying to explain. "My name is Buffy…I am the slayer. I was sent by Spike."

The nun studied her still unsure. "Spike?"

"You know, the council vampire. Hum…what is it that you guys call him…the pacifier?"

The nun's face lightened. "El Pacificador is here? Bendito sea el nombre de Jehovah! Come, of course you may see el padre. Please come!"

Buffy stared after the retreating nun; she looked down at her little girl. Vanessa was staring at her with a smile on her tiny face. "What?"

"You don't speak Spanish," she said as she stuck a finger in her mouth and started suckling it.

"Well," Buffy said lifting the girl in her arms. "You're gonna have to teach me."

The girl stuck her finger out of her mouth and offered it to Buffy as a truce. "Deal."

Buffy looked at the dripping fingers. "We'll shake on it once we clean your hands."

Vanessa smiled. "You're funny."

"Yeah, so I've been told," Buffy murmured, following the nun.

--

He knew she was coming before she even entered the office. He reached under his desk and retrieved the small bottle of oil he had collected from the holy land. The soft knock came as no surprise and he sat forward in his humble wooden chair.

"Entra," he said. (Enter)

"Padre, perdone mi interupccion, pero lo ah venido a ver la Matadora…mandada por el pacificador," Sister Maria Theresa said as she bowed her head. ("Father, pardon my intrusion, but the slayer has come to see you, sent by the pacifier.")

"Lo se Hermana Theresa, dehela intrar y a la nina tambien," he said smiling. ("I know, Sister Theresa, let her in and the child with her.")

The nun nodded and let the blonde in with the small child.

Buffy stood awkwardly in front of the man. All she knew how to say was 'Bless me father for I have sinned', but she hardly though this was the appropriate moment to say that.

"Hum…I a…." Buffy was stalling.

"I know why you came, child. Please have a seat." He gestured to the empty chair in front of his desk.

"I am Buffy, this is Vanessa, and you must be father Berrios." She extended her hand—the old man took it and smiled at her.

"Yes, of course. I should have known they would bring you back. Welcome back, Miss Summers."

Buffy looked confused. "How do you…"

"I take you're not religious." He sighed. "Most slayers are not."

"No, I'm really not. I've only been inside a church once or twice," She confessed.

"And look, already you've made your confession," he said amiably.

Buffy smiled at him and nodded. "I really don't know why I am here, Spike said…"

"How is the old man?" he interrupted.

Buffy sighed. "We're holding up."

Father Berrios nodded. "He's a strong one, that one." He looked down at Vanessa and smiled. "And you must be Vanessa?"

The little girl pulled tighter into Buffy's embrace.

"It's alright child, come here—I will not hurt you," he said extending his arms.

Buffy studied the man before her. If Spike trusted him then so could she. She looked down at the little girl. "It's alright, darling, he's a friend of Spike." The little girl eyed him cautiously as she climbed down from Buffy's lap and walked around the desk. She stood before him with her fingers in her mouth, her large green eyes watchful as he brought out a small vial.

"Well…you have your mother's eyes," he said smiling at the little girl. "And your father's hair, if he would stop bleaching it."

Buffy stiffened.

"My mama and my papa are dead." The little girl said as she stood proudly in front of the man.

The father smiled with approval, her strength was showing at early stages. "You know what some people say?"

The little girl shook her head.

"That whenever God closes a door he opens a window."

Vanessa blinked and took her fingers from her mouth.

Father Berrios opened the small bottle and dabbed his fingers with the blessed oil. He placed a finger on her forehead. "Te bendigo," a finger to her chest. "En el nombre del padre," a finger to her shoulder. "Del hijo," a finger to her other small shoulder. "Y del Espiritu Santo," his fingers came to her mouth and she kissed them lightly. "Amen."

She smiled at him and walked back to Buffy's waiting arms.

"Thank you," the slayer said as she lifted the little girl into her arms and got to her feet.

The priest nodded and stood up. She realized then how small he was—almost an elf. Then she realized that he was not human. She recoiled.

"Good comes in many faces and under many names. Do not be deceived for good is found within."

Buffy still eyed him carefully.

"He's good," Vanessa said.

Buffy looked surprised at her. "What?"

"The child can sense the nature of good and evil, the forces within a being. Be it human or not. She'll know. It's her gift. Like yours." He walked to them, balancing hesitant steps with a cane.

Buffy took in the information and nodded to the man. "Thank you," she said.

"Slayer."She turned back to look at him.

"Hear this, the only way to defeat evil is to look upon its face and be not afraid."

"My papi always said not to be afraid of what is in the dark because the powers would protect me." Vanessa put her two cents in.

"And safe you shall be my child," said the smiling priest.

"Thank you again, father." Buffy strode out of the office.

--

Spike saw them walk out of the church and climbed out of the car. He took Vanessa from Buffy, and noted how tired she looked. "Done," she said.

He nodded and placed the little girl into her lap as she sat down.

"I am hungry." Vanessa said as she extended her small arm to play with the radio.

Spike sighed. Parental life was nothing new to him—but one so small was a whole new ball game.

--

Spike paced in front of the bathroom door as he heard giggling and water splashing. He cringed as he imagined his wet carpet.

"You done in there?" he asked.

"Almost." He heard Buffy say.

He groaned.

"But I'm not wrinkly yet!" Vanessa squealed.

"You're going to look like a raisin if you get any more wrinkly," Buffy answered her.

Spike shrugged off his coat and turned to the bedroom door as he heard a knock.

Zeta stood in front of the door with the items he had asked for in her hands.

"Thanks," he said, as he gestured for her to enter.

"You're welcome, Spike dear. Just what you asked for. Toys, a plush pig, some clothes, and most importantly- a night light."

"A night light?" he asked eyeing the butterfly shaped light. He had not asked for that.

"Yes, she'll want it after what she's been through," Zeta said as she set the items on top of the bed.

Spike groaned and he sat on the bed. She took in his visible discomfort and tried to soothe him.

"Hey! You'll be fine. And you have Buffy to help you- it will all work out okay." She was interrupted by a squealing sound as the slayer emerged with a towel-draped Vanessa in her arms.

"What do we have here? A wet piggy," Buffy said as she held the giggling girl in her arms.

"I am not a piggy. Piggies are pink, fat and pink," Vanessa said.

"Look at that! Sarcasm, I wonder were she gets it from?" she glared at a staring Spike.

"What?" he asked innocently.

"I'll be downstairs," Zeta said as she sensed their need for privacy.

"We'll be down once we get the little piggy off to bed," Spike said.

"Not a piggy!" Vanessa protested. Spike picked up the pink pig Zeta had brought.

"No?" he asked astounded. "Well, Mr. Gordo here told me differently." He walked to the girls and he marched the pig in mid air.

"Mr. Gordo?" Vanessa asked doubtful.

"Yeah, that's his name, right, pet?" he asked Buffy.

The slayer's eyes sparkled as she watched him play with their daughter.

"Yup, Mr. Gordo Jr." she said looking at the wet girl.

"Still not a piggy," Vanessa protested.

"Hum…I see this might take some convincing," Spike said, scratching his chin. "Well, you know what piggies do don't ya?"

Vanessa smiled and shook her head, hitting Buffy's face with the wet strands of her hair.

Spike approached them quickly and without warning reached out and tickled her mid section. "They squeal!"

Vanessa squealed as Spike took her in his arms and continued his assault. "Squeal, squeal, squeal."

"No!" Vanessa cried between fits of laughter.

"Say you're a piggy," Spike insisted as he gave her a moment to breathe.

Vanessa's smiled reached from ear to ear. "No!" she insisted.

He assaulted her again as she slipped from his arms and ran to the bed.

Buffy caught up to her and tried to 'save' her from Spike.

But Spike was not so merciful as he attacked the slayer and she began to squeal with laughter.

"She's a piggy!" Vanessa squealed as Buffy turned red as Spike's hands gave no mercy to the laughing slayer.

"Beg mercy!" Spike insisted.

"Never!" Vanessa answered for her.

"Never?" Spike looked questioning at Buffy who was trying to catch her breath. She locked eyes with him, her eyes and his danced with joy.

"Never." Buffy answered.

Wrong answer as the laughter of the three was heard through out the apartment.

--

"There's only one way in," Mario stated as he pointed to the board that showed the map of Glory's quarters.

"Which way?" Spike asked as he sipped his mug of blood.

"An Iron door we'll have to blow up," Lucy commented as she raised the power point image to a different screen.

"Good, lets get to work—the sooner the better," He replied, finishing up the last bit of the red liquid.

"Mmm, there's only one problem," Lucy interrupted.

Buffy hopped on to the counter. "What is it?" she asked.

"It has to be detonated manually," she said. She twirled her pen between her fingers.

"In other words, someone has to be the walking bomb. They would be able to sense any activity with all the vampires they have there," Mario finished.

"And I pay you to find a way to keep us all alive," Spike said as he stared at his team.

"Well we have a plan," Zeta said.

"And the plan is…" Spike sighed as he grew weary.

"A simple hit and run." Lucy said as she clicked on the screen and the photo of a car's skeletons came up.

"Hit and run?" Buffy asked as she looked at the complicated diagram.

"The C4 will be placed strategically on the left vault of the engine. This is where the wiper wash is usually stored. We will connect a direct detonator from the explosives to the dashboard of the car. If not pressed at the correct moment the whole plan will blow to hell as well as the person driving. This can only work if it's well coordinated and perfectly executed."

Lucy's power point image changed and a picture of a car accident came to view. "The driver will drive at 45mph into the iron gates. On impact the C4 will activate and we're in. There are two collisions that happen in a crash. One: the impact of the car with the object, two: the impact of the driver with the inside of the car. The driver has to get out in between those two."

"Great, lets get some rest," Spike said pushing himself up.

"It's not that simple, Spike. The driver will only have a seventh of a second to respond and stay alive," she said as she sat down looking at him. "In the first tenth of the second the car and everything inside are going at the speed of the vehicle. The front bumper strikes the gates and begins to deform. The front center of the car slows to 0mph; the rest of the car and its occupant continue moving forward at 45 mph.

In the second tenth of a second the bumper continues to deform as the energy of the crash is being dissipated; the radiator and the fan begin to crush; the engine and frame strike the gate and begin to decelerate. The driver has to push the detonation button at this moment, no sooner no later.

In the next tenth of the second the frame and the body of the car continues to deform—the driver is still moving at 45 mph. If they do not exit the car between the moment of detonation and the next tenth of a second they will blow away along with the rest of the car. It's a suicide mission: impossible"

"Bloody 'ell, Lucy, you know that's impossible, even for me. No one moves that fast," he exclaimed.

"You don't," she said.

"But slayers do," said Buffy from her position.


	19. The Dedicated

The Reason--Part 15 of 100 yrs of Solitude (Races condemned to 100 yrs of solitude do not get a second opportunity on earth)

The Dedicated --Part 18 of 100 yrs of Solitude (Races condemned to 100 yrs of solitude do not get a second opportunity on earth)

By: Isabelle

-Disclaimers: Title belongs entirely to Gabriel Garcia Marquez--just borrowing it for the sake of the story. Buffy, Spike, Whistler and all the memories belong to Joss and his crew. All other characters are entirely mine.

--

"The 'ell you will!" Spike exclaimed at Buffy's declaration. She turned to look at him impassively.

"She's right, she's the only one can do it. Besides - it's her job," Zeta added. The low growl coming from Spike's throat impressed upon her the need to say no more.

"You." Spike pointed to Buffy. "In the hall, now!" He pointed to the door. "And you!" He indicated Lucy with another wave of the hand. "Find a another way in, now!" He then attempted to muscle Buffy out of the room, but she was having none of it. Resisting, with her arms crossed over her chest, she stared him down. He stopped short, clenching fists at his sides. He knew with her stubbornness that this approach was not working. Swallowing his pride, he took another tack. "Please," he whispered.

Buffy pulled away from him, her body loosening up as the tension left it. She lifted herself up onto the counter and relaxed her arms on her bent knees. The smile she gave him filled his heart with dread. "Here's what we'll do…"

"Slayer," Spike warned. Damn, but she was stubborn!

Buffy ignored him. "Lucy, you make sure we're ready- everything prepped for the operation. Mario, you come up with a backup plan in case something goes wrong. Dalton, look the diagram over very carefully- we have to know everything down to the last detail. Troll, can you whip me up some kind of protection spell? You know- magical cover that makes it so they don't see us approaching the gates. Zeta, can you make some tea for Vanessa—I want her to sleep though the day—she'd hate to stay by herself. Spike- You come with me."

She jumped up and walked out into the hall, leaving perplexed players in her wake. Spike's jaw tightened. "Well kiddies, you just witnessed a real Slayer in action," he offered mournfully. Then he followed the blonde out into the hall.

Mario was leering appreciatively after Buffy. Lucy gaped at him.

"What?" he asked.

"You're a pig," she flatly stated.

He smiled self-confidently, leaning back a little. "What man doesn't like a strong woman?"

"I don't," said Dalton as he cleaned his gun barrel.

Mario gave him a dirty look. "You're supposed to be on my side here, man!"

--

"Buffy…" Spike began.

She cut him off by placing her hand on his lips. "Just listen to me, alright?"

He locked eyes with her and sighed. "Pet, it's dangerous."

She smiled. "I know."

"You could die," he continued.

"I know."

"I don't want you to do it," he tried.

"I know." She gave him a radiant smile, and he basked in its warmth, almost inhaling the air around her.

"I love you." His voice was brusk, and bitter with emotion.

The smile went up in wattage. "I know."

He reached for her hand, her small white fingers that held such power. Gently, reverently, he pressed kisses against the tips of each digit.

"I'll be fine," she reassured him.

He laced their fingers together and snaked his hand around her waist, pulling her closer to him. "I know." He offered her a conciliatory smile of his own, then. "It's just strange, you know. Having you back and all—'m used to having things done my way. I'd almost forgotten how beautiful you are when you're in control."

She leaned in to him. "You think I am beautiful when I am in control?"

He touched her check lightly. "Pet, you're beautiful all the time."

She sighed. She could only imagine what he had been through. All those years, all alone. The thought made her want to give him anything, everything, to make it up to him, to make it better.

She tugged on him suggestively. "Let's go upstairs," she said.

"But…" he protested. But it was a token protest- the look in her eyes warmed his cold blood. He let her lead him up the stairs and into the penthouse, and on into the living room.

"Sit here," she said, gesturing to the sofa. He eyed her suspiciously as she headed into the kitchen. Then he shrugged off his coat and tried to relax on the soft leather couch.

She came back with two mugs and a smile. "Hot chocolate," she said, handing him a cup. He gratefully accepted it.

"Thanks, pet."

She settled in next to him, relaxing as he placed an arm around her shoulders. Her head rested on his chest as he absently stroked her hair.

"I still don't want you to do it," he said, taking a sip from his cup.

Buffy looked up at him—he looked like he was far away, dreaming of times long ago.

"Hey," she whispered, bringing him back to reality.

He smiled sheepishly at her. "Sorry, just thinking I'm 'bout to wake up any moment and just…"

"Be all alone here?" she finished for him.

He sighed and held her closer. "I don't know if I could take that, pet. I've lost so much…."

Buffy put down her cup and took his from his shaky hand. "Come here," she said. She tugged his arm, gently pulling his head onto her lap. She stroked his gelled locks until they softened and lost all semblance of their styling.

"Don't know why he never told me," Spike said, looking up at her. Buffy knew he was talking about Sammy. It was best to let him talk. So many things had happened in the last twenty-four hours that she felt exhausted. What then must it be like for him?

"Maybe he thought it was for the best," Buffy soothed. He sighed and looked away from her. "Think about it, what would you have done five years ago if you had found out there was a little girl out there somewhere, made out of me?"

Spike agreed with her. He would have handled it worse. He reached out and laced their fingers together again.

Buffy relaxed into the perfect moment. This all just felt so right. Almost as if it were outside of time, outside of the trouble that was brewing all round them.

"Gonna miss them, gonna miss them so much," he said longingly.

She continued stroking his hair, but said nothing.

"I remember when Sammy was born. It's all surreal. You see them as tiny tots, then you see them married, you see their children…then you see them dead. Dead trying to protect my daughter—she was my responsibility to protect, never theirs," he said.

Buffy gently leaned in and brushed her lips against his. He looked at her startled—not expecting the bold move now. Letting go her hand he reached up and caressed her cheek , and her hair.

"So glad you're here…for however long I am allowed to have you," he said. His eyes grew glassy.

"Not going anywhere," she promised, leaning in to his touch.

_Era vagabundo de la calle (I was a street bum)  
Dormia en pisos sucios y solitarios (I slept on lonely and dirty floors) _

_Y mi mente me recordabe de unas cosas (And my mind would remind me of things) _

_Tus ojos claros y labios de rosa (Like your light eyes and sweet pink lips) _  
"Promise me you'll be careful," he begged softly.

She felt as if she were almost drowning in the blue deeps before her. Clear and honest eyes that spoke hunger, loss, and strength. She could hardly breathe as she felt his touch—a touch that was reassuring—and the only way she would loose it was if she walked away from it. She leaned down and kissed him again. But he didn't move. She drew back almost hurt and disappointed but the light sparkle in his eyes told her he was teasing.

"Say it," he said.

She looked back at him confused. "Say what?"

He looked back at her, passion rapidly filling his eyes as he became acutely aware of her closeness. The warmth of her body so near, her perfect little breasts temptingly close.

Breasts that begged to be touched and teased, licked and caressed. Unconsciously he licked his lips and gave her a sly grin.

"I told you I would not kiss you again until you say something," he sighed. "But I guess I'll never kiss you since you said that I would never hear that from your lips," he said—now studying her lips, so close, so full and inviting. Pink with shiny gloss, parted slightly to expose the barest hint of perfect teeth.

A light in Buffy's head clicked as she realized what he was asking. She carefully traced her finger along his jaw, up into his chiseled cheekbones. The perfect frame for a strong, beautiful face.

"Should I say that you're handsome?--No that sounds too, what is it that you call it…poofy?" she grinned playfully. "Maybe I should say that you're dangerous and exciting…that's a turn on—right?" she went on..

Too late—he was already turned on and her stalling was too much for his impatient nature. He grabbed her wrist and in one swift movement he was the one on top of her. She let him lay her down on her back. He pressed himself up against the rising heat between her legs, and all rational thought departed.

"Say it," he growled. He leaned in and licked a trail from her neck to the lobe of her ear. She gasped and arched up at him. She moaned as he nibbled her ear. Then he pulled his head away and smiled down into her flushed face triumphantly.

_Y cuato you daria por besarte (I would give anything to kiss you) _

_Sentir tus labios contra los mios (To feel your lips against mine) _

_Amarte con todo lo que soy (To love you with everything I am) _

_Y vivir mi vida aqui a tu lado (And spend my life by your side) _

"Spike," she groaned.

"Still not the magic words," he said, moving to work on her other ear. She shivered with need.

Her hands found the muscled planes of his back.

' So this was what Cosmo meant by a man being sculpted. Definitely not Angel, nor Parker, and not Riley,' she thought. 'Lean and powerful. Hidden power. Just like mine.'

"I…." she started but he went back to her neck and she forgot how to talk. His hands found the globe of one breast, teasing the peak beneath the frustrating fabric of her shirt. "Oh god," she moaned, trying to find his mouth—why wasn't he kissing her? Her mind was blank—she wanted to taste his tongue like she had that day on his bed. She wanted to feel that rush through her veins—that passionate heat that made her want to scream.

He stopped was he was doing and looked at her. She cried out in desperation.

"Say the words, Buffy," he said quietly.

Buffy came back to reality as she opened her eyes to look at him. His eyes were blazing with desire. But there was something more than that there, a deep look of yearning and raw need.

She knew what she had to do.

Reluctantly she moved her hand away from his back, moving to cup his face in her hands. Slowly she dragged her thumb across his face, gazing all the while into those deep blue eyes that filled her with simultaneous peace and longing. Fingers playing along the nape of his neck, she brought him closer. Only mere inches from tasting that mouth again—seconds, sweet seconds of agonizing pleasure.

_Pero la vida es mala y arisca (But life is not sweet and trustworthy) _

_Me quema, me mata y me enloquese (It burns me, it kills me, it maddens me) _

_Me ace nada—un paño solo y bacio (It turns me into nothing—a lonely, dirty, rag) _

_Tirado en calles, yo soy nada sin tu amor (Thrown on empty streets—I am nothing without your love) _

Spike felt as if he was melting into her. The feel of her toned body beneath him, soft hands caressing him…

If only she would say it, the three little words he had waited one hundred years to hear.

"I," she breathed, kissing his forehead. He closed her eyes and inhaled her scent. "Love," she whispered, kissing his nose. He opened his eyes slowly, meeting her warm gaze. "You." She pressed her lips against his mouth and kissed him intently.

The honesty in her words, the desire in her kiss, hit him hard. Could a vampire dust from pure happiness? He certainly felt as if me might.

Buffy was floating—she was sure she was dying. Never had she felt this way. Somehow, this kiss was different, unique. She was loved by a man and loved him back. They had a bright future ahead of them. It was unadulterated bliss.

His tongue claimed her mouth in a perfect dance, one she instinctively knew the rhythm for. Their hands explored each other, as whimpers and moans echoed in the room. _So this is heaven_, thought Spike as the reality of it came crashing through his clouded thoughts. He was with Buffy. She was alive, in his arms; she loved him, and they were only getting started.

She held him closer as emotions filled her. She loved him. She really did. When she had realized it, the emotion was vague and new. Things had been too uncertain; it had been time to fight, not to explore these feelings. But now, here with him, she felt she understood herself completely, for the first time in her life. '_So this is love_,' she thought. 'Happy love- love you can laugh with, and have fun with, and lose yourself inside. Love that holds no grudges or regrets, no barriers or curses. Total love.' The thought made her giddy with joy, as if a heavy hand had lifted off her heart. She knew why she loved him. She loved the man he had been, the man he had become, and the man he wanted to be..

'_Jerry Maguire much_?' she thought as she began to giggle.

He pulled back as he felt her laugh, and gazed down on a beautiful sight. Once before he had seen her look like that, long ago. With her mother and Dawn, before Soldier boy, before the whole key business…

Thousands of days ago.

Pure and simple delight—mixed with peace and love. As Buffy should always be, as if sunshine radiated from her face.

"You're beautiful when you smile," he said, looking down at her. Her cheeks were bright pink from the heat of the moment, her lips swollen from the passionate kiss, her eyes sparkling with affection.

_Aqui ente cuarto donde vivias (Here, in this room were you used to live) _

_Tu fragancia me enloquese y me enloca (Your scent drives me mad with need) _

_En suenos siento tus labion contra lost mio (Only in dreams do I feel your lips against mine) _

_Y ruego a Dios quedarme en suenos aqui contingo. (And I pray to God—to stay in my dreams here with you.) _

"I love you," she said again.

"I think we covered that, pet." He leaned over and kissed her again. It was a brief kiss, since she pulled back with an astonished look in her face.

"No, I mean it." She cupped his face and gave him a serious look. She had to make him understand. "I am really in love with."

He would never grow tired of hearing those words. They were more than music to his ears—they were life in words.

"Complete and utter surrender. Just…bang! Hits you like a fire bolt and just…melts you dead and brings you alive at the same moment. Like the wind is missing from your lungs, and the entire existence of this universe depends on this love. And no matter how much I tell myself that this isn't real I can't convince myself because I've never felt more alive than this before."

He stared at her completely enlightened face. She was luminous.

This was his girl—his slayer—his legend.

"Tell me, luv. What made you come to this interesting and completely poetic conclusion?" he asked smirking at her.

She gave him a mock glare. "I am having a moment here," she pouted.

"Really? Cause I was 'bout to have a moment too until was wonderfully interrupted by your very lovely speech," he teased.

She slapped him across the chest. "Hey!" she chided. "It's all up to me if you have your moment or not—I could just make you suffer and take a nice cold shower."

He growled and assaulted her mouth. She pushed him off. "No!" she smiled sweetly. "I want to hear you now."

Another growl. "Hear me?" he wiggled his narrow hips and ground his hardness against her hips. "How's this for poetic?"

"I guess it'll do," Buffy said breathlessly as heat overcame the need to hear his words.

Lips joined again as the lovers found each other. Then they were interrupted by a scream coming from Vanessa's room.

--

"Were the hell have you been?" Lucy glared as Loret casually strode into the room and let out a big sigh.

"Never mix business with pleasure, they say. Therefore I am at work—no need to share the pleasure," she said smirking and lighting a fag.

Zeta looked over her carefully. There was something off about her—as if her aura had been…bleached.

"What type of pleasure?" Zeta inquired arching her eyebrow and studying her.

Loret sighed and blew out the smoke in the woman's direction. "Don't analyze me, sister. And don't try your mojo on me—not gonna work."

"So confident, are you?" she challenged back.

"As a matter of fact," she jumped on the counter. "I am ."

"Just don't leave for too long next time—we have some business to discuss," Lucy said as she drew charts of the attack plan.

"Like what?" Loret said, picking the dirt off her leather boots. "And please no discussion of the whole massacre."

Lucy put down her pencil and stared at her. "If you gave half a flying fuck for Spike as you claim you do you wouldn't have left."

"And watch him sob in the little slayer's arm? No thanks."

"Spare me the tragedy, Loret. We have serious trouble here. A god is nothing to be taken lightly. There will be no time to baby your wounded pride and your inability to move on. Spike is no longer interested—get over it. In case you missed the memo you're a card player, chosen from a million people to fight the good fight, and there's trouble rising in the east. So do what you're paid three million dollars for and get your ass in gear." Lucy spat out—never taking her eyes from Loret.

Loret stared at her for one more second before smiling brightly. She jumped down from the counter and crushed her cigarette under her boot. "As always, Lucy, your wisdom and ability to put people down graces us. Now…what are we going to do to stop this hellbitch?"

--

Both Spike and Buffy rushed to the room before Vanessa had a chance to take a breath from her initial screams.

Once Spike saw that she was safe he rushed to the window to see if there were any intruders. Buffy took the frightened girl into her arms.

While Spike searched every corner of the room Vanessa sobbed on Buffy's chest. The slayer kept whispering comfort words to her as her eyes searched the room.

"She ok?" Spike asked concerned as he found nothing in the room.

"Vanessa, what happened, sweetheart?" Buffy tried talking to her as Spike sunk into the mattress.

"I was in the dark—and the door would not open. I was so scared." She whimpered and buried her head in Buffy's chest.

The slayer understood and smoothed out her head rocking her back and fort. "It was a dream, baby—just a dream. Nothing is going to hurt you."

Spike sighed with relief and rubbed his neck. He would kill without a second thought anything that harmed his child in any way.

"I want my mommy," she whimpered.

Buffy looked at Spike with desperation in her eyes.

She was a mother but she was not a mommy. She had no experience whatsoever and her child didn't even know her.

"C'mere, duckling," Spike said extending his arms to her. She gratefully flung herself into his waiting arms.

"Can I ask you something?" he whispered.

A little nod was his response.

"What do you say…that since your mom and da' are in heaven you…well, you choose us as your new parents." Spike knew he was being too sudden. For the most part he still saw her as Sammy's daughter—but he was one to quickly accept reality and he knew that she should be told the truth from an early age.

"You don't have to if you don't want to," Buffy quickly put in—glaring at Spike for his impatience. He was never patient. Buffy believed that she needed time. She had just lost her parents the night before.

Spike gaped at her, clearly confused, but all doubts were put to rest when Vanessa responded with a bright smile. "A new mommy and daddy?"

Spike began to speak but he was thrown off by small arms wrapping tightly around his neck. "I like this," she said planting a kiss on his cheek.

"Vanessa, are you sure?" Buffy asked concerned.

The little girl pouted. "Don't you want to be my mommy?" she asked dejectedly.

Emotion rose to Buffy's throat as she stared into the eyes that mirrored her so well.

"I would love to—if you let me."

Vanessa gave her a bright smile. "Does this mean we're a family?"

Spike chuckled, overcome by joy, and kissed her on her little, dimpled cheek. "Always."

--

The soldiers straightened as the man came walking down the hall. Dressed in the finest Armani suit, briefcase at hand and an air of importance around him.

Hollow steps in the still white corridor that led to the large oak door at the end. The twelve guards looked straight ahead—a picture of military perfection.

"Representative Berrios, welcome to Memphis Base," the lieutenant at the door said as he saluted the man.

"At ease, soldier." Javier responded as he saluted back to the man. "Has the lady arrived yet?"

The man nodded in confirmation. "She has, sir. The senators are waiting for you to fill them in with the information."

Javier nodded and followed the man through the door—entering the room with the large round where the internal council sat..

"Señor Berrios, how nice of you to join us," the head senator commented dryly as the younger man entered the room.

"Senator Kemp, how are you sir?"

The man stood up, his white hair sharp against the shadows of the room. Glaring down at the darker man he motioned for him to take the last seat left.

"Lieutenant, you may leave," the sitting general said to his officer.

"Yes sir," the man saluted again and left the room, leaving the councilmen to themselves.

All eyes turned to look at the representative. "Let us talk like the men we are, Javier. When we invited you to our prestigious council you were the first choice because of your roots. Having Lindsey McDonald as an ancestor put you clearly in the line of prospects. Your work is always flawless and impeccable, and you do not question our decisions. But our second reason is the most important. You do not fail. Until yesterday we had no qualms about your work, but…" he walked around the table to face the cowering man. "How shall I put this? You made a mistake."

"I did what you told me to do," he responded.

"And where is the child?" he leaned in—blue eyes blazing at him.

"You said nothing about the child," Javier said—back stiff with fear.

"Have we not worked these past five years to find her, have we not brought gods from nether dimensions, fueled a war with the Spanish Mafia, have we not gone through so much trouble to find one little girl that keeps slipping from our hands? For what? To let her walk away with the two people that would let nothing harm her in any way."

"They would have bested me and my men in ten minutes—you know that," Javier responded.

"The girl is key to our operation. Through her veins runs the most powerful blood in this hellish world. Never in the history of mankind or demon have two such powerful beings joined to create such perfection. We will need her—we shall raise her to serve us, not them and their insignificant dream." The senator walked to the window and gazed down at the city that lay at his fingertips. "In time, Mr. Berrios, you will see the power of politics. In time you will see the power of the forces of evil, but while that comes," he turned to face the room. "We have a special guest." He smiled.

The door to the side opened. "Your highness?"

A thin woman with red painted lips and straight black hair emerged, wearing a skimpy red dress that closely fit her tight figure.

The older men in the room eyed her appreciatively and she smiled back.

"Glorificus, welcome to our humble office," Senator Kent said smiling and kissing her hand.

She pulled her hand away from his wrinkly mouth and sighed in annoyance.

"Ok—lets get it straight, it's Glory, ok? Simple, learn it." She casually strolled to the table and sat her self on the senator's chair. She crossed her legs smiling at the men in the room and hitching her skirt up just a bit more. "Alright boys, here's the plan. The slayer and her little pet vampire are planning—as we speak--my defeat. But what they don't know is that their greatest enemy is underneath their very noses."

She smiled sweetly at them.

"What about the child?" the general asked.

"The pesky brat that escaped us last time is being retrieved as we speak."

--

"So it's all planned out, then?" Spike asked as he and Buffy studied the map before them.

"We'll need a car. Where's Loret—I am sure she doesn't mind stealing one," Mario said rolling up the maps from the table.

"She went to the ladies," Zeta said.

"Don't they have a slutties?" Buffy muttered and Spike gave her an sharp look.

"How's Vanessa doing?" Lucy asked concerned.

Spike sighed and leaned back on his chair. "She's mostly asleep, thanks to that tea you gave 'er," he motioned to Zeta.

The woman nodded. "She'll be out for a while. We'll have time to go through the initial attack."

Buffy gave her a look of appreciation and went to get her weapons together.

"When you're about to get to the gate, you have to say 'See you in hell, motherfuckers.' Then pull the plug," Mario told her handing her a .45mm.

"What?" Buffy asked him.

"But say it with a straight face. They wont believe you if you don't." He was completely oblivious to her look.

"I am sorry—I left my poker face at home," she said sarcastically.

"What's poker?"

They were interrupted as both Zeta and Troll were suddenly slammed against the walls and slumped to the floor.

"Wad'a 'ell?" Dalton asked as he ran to help Zeta up.

"Oh, god!" she said as feelings and vibrations started to fill her. Her eyes found Spike's worried one. "Vanessa! Loret's got her."

Buffy walked to her—fear settling at the pit of her stomach.

"What?" Spike asked confused.

"It's like a veil has been lifted—she's working with Glory!" she cried, trying to hurry them.

No more words needed to be spoken. All of them rushed upstairs—Spike and Buffy led the way as they made record time to the girl's room.

As the door was kicked open—it revealed an open window and an empty bed.


	20. The Executioner

The Executioner --Part 19 of 100 yrs of Solitude (Races condemned to 100 yrs of solitude do not get a second opportunity on earth)

The Executioner --Part 19 of 100 yrs of Solitude (Races condemned to 100 yrs of solitude do not get a second opportunity on earth)

By: Isabelle

-Disclaimers: Title belongs entirely to Gabriel Garcia Marquez--just borrowing it for the sake of the story. Buffy, Spike, Whistler and all the memories belong to Joss and his crew. All other characters are entirely mine.

--

"Concentrate," Lucy told Zeta as she sat in the middle of the room—yoga style.

The others left the room trying to give her space. Once they were outside Spike turned to face Troll.

"Why didn't you guys sense her before?" Spike asked practically shouting. "That's why I hired you—you were supposed to be the best."

"Even the best have their worst," the old man answered wisely. "There was magic around her, powerful magick, dark and ancient. It was like there was no longer need for us to be blinded—someone wanted us to know that she was untrustworthy."

"Which only means someone is expecting us," Spike said, his eyes getting dark.

He turned and walked to the weapons chest, the players and an extremely worried slayer behind him.

"What are we going to do? The only way to get her would be with the car stunt—but we'll risk hurting Vanessa if I go through with it," Buffy asked him.

"They're no longer there," Zeta said, coming into the room.

They all turned to look at her. She was tired from the emotional exhaustion. "The warehouse is empty. I have lost their aura and I have no idea where they are," she stated.

Buffy felt her world crumble around her. She could still see those little eyes trusting her entirely—she must be so scared.

Spike saw her sulk and took her shoulders in his hands. He looked at her, intense blue eyes filled with reassurance he didn't know he possessed. "We'll find 'er. Don't go coma on me—had enough of you like that," he said.

Buffy nodded and tried to shift her worries in to anger. Anger towards that woman. "She's going down," she hissed back at him.

Spike understood her declaration and nodded. This was her fight—just like Gloryhellbitch was his.

"Where do we find them," Troll asked his boss.

Spike shifted into the man they all knew and followed. "We hit the streets," he said swinging an AK-47 to Buffy who cocked it with ease. He grabbed himself his signature Rubio, face hardening in anger.

--

She watched as she slept. A peaceful little angel with a powerful future. She smiled wickedly at her.

"A chip off the ol' block aren't you, sweetheart?" Loret asked the sleeping child.

Lighting a cigarette she leaned back on the seat of the SUV as it tumbled on the rocky road.

There was a fight looming on the horizon and she was itching to get her hands on a small slayer who still had a debt to pay.

"When I get through with your mommy…she's gonna wish she was left dead."

--

It was the kind of bar you never went to after 7 pm. It was the one your mother warned you about.

But it was the first one you hit when you were of age.

It was rundown and dark. Creatures loomed in the dark corners—ordering drinks that would make you gag. The smoke was thick in the air—even though smoking was illegal—they rolled the grass in the little room in the back and sold it five bucks a fag.

They only way you lived through a visit was if you minded your own business or if you were a bad ass that no one messed with. There were always idiots who had fifty pound balls and never made it out—but they learned their lessons. Lessons they would no longer need since their body parts were used in the evening's special.

You always knew one of those came by when the meat was too salty. But no comment—unless you wanted to be tomorrow's meal.

So when the doors were swung open—showing three men and two women armed to the teeth, the cook ran to the back to get the stove ready._ Plenty of meat for tomorrow_, he thought.

The patrons didn't look up from their plates filled with _frijoles _and cups full of whiskey. The dirty bartender rolled his eyes and continued serving his customers.

Buffy grew impatient and walked ahead. She could feel her slayer senses going wild—there was not one human in the place.

"Hello, amor—what can I get for you today, _gringa_?" the bartender leered at Buffy as he placed a shotglass and filled it with cheap tequila.

"Not here for a drink," she said coolly and walked carefully to the bar as she felt a few eyes look in her direction. "Here for information—information I know you have. Well, at least someone here does."

The blond man with her moved to the center of the room and jumped on the middle table, startling some of the demons and making them growl.

"You see my friend here," Buffy said, pointing at Spike. "He's very temperamental. Kills without mercy, slaughters without thought—human and demon alike. You might have heard of him…if you're smart you might have even heard of me…even them," she said, pointing to the card players.

"I'll give you a word of advise, _querida_," the bartender said, placing down the bottle of whiskey and reaching under the counter for a gun. "Leave now and live. Stay and keep talking and you'll die."

Buffy smiled at him and without warning slammed her fist on to the hand that was resting on top of the counter. The creature howled as every bone in his hand was crushed under the strength of the slayer.

"And I'll give you a word of advice, smelly, don't mess around with a braced off slayer." She sneered.

The room instantly came to life as guns were pulled from places Buffy had never imagined.

_Where's the bulletproof vest when you need one_, thought Buffy as she wearily looked around the room she saw many angry faces staring back at her.

"Sorry I guess I didn't properly introduce myself or my friends—did I?" she said, letting the man go and turning to face the others. "The name is Summers. Buffy Summers—this is Spike, or as you all know him—_el pacificador_. Did I get it right, honey?" she asked sweetly at Spike. He smiled back and brought forth his game face.

"And as you 'lot would have guessed—they," he pointed to the players. "Are the card players. Which means, kiddies, no one gets out of here alive."

--

When she awoke she knew something was wrong. This was not the safe place she had remembered—something in her skin told her not only that this place was bad, but that the people in this room were bad.

She whimpered and recoiled as she realized her new daddy and her new mommy were no longer around.

"Don't be afraid, cutie," a woman with black hair and black eyes came into her view. A smile spread across her lips as she talked to her.

The feeling around her was so bad Vanessa jumped and hugged herself tighter. This was a bad lady—a very bad lady.

"Where's my mommy and my daddy?" she demanded.

The woman smiled and reached out to twirl the little girl's hair though her perfectly manicured red nails.

"They were smart to tell you—but you're never going to see them again, darling. From now on—you belong to me. I'll be your mommy, your daddy—anything you want me to be."

Vanessa slapped her hand away and glared back at her. "You're a bad lady," she whispered.

The woman laughed. "I like you, Essie—can I call you Essie? You remind me of your mommy when she was in the best shape of her life. Too bad she's run down and flabby by now. They'll never find you, Essie—from now on it's just you and me, kiddo."

"My daddy and mommy will find me—and when they do you're gonna be sorry," she said with all the strength she could muster.

The woman roughly grabbed her—holding her chin in place as she stared into her eyes, faces mere inches from each other. "Let me tell you a little story, Essie. I once sucked the brains out little girls like you."

Vanessa did what she had seen her brother do to his friends when they fought. She spit on her face—slimy substance that ran down the red lips and fake eyelashes.

She was thrown down on the floor as the woman wiped the spit from her face. "You little bitch!" she cried. "You're gonna pay for that."

--

"Sir?"

The white haired man turned to look at the delivery boy. "Yes?"

"The child has been acquired by the player. She's in the lady's quarters as we speak," the boy said.

"Good. Prepare for our immediate departure, Steven. We want to be out of here before the slayer and her vampire find us." The man answered and turned to face the other man with him.

"Yes, sir." The boy left.

"You see, ol' boy, everything is working out as we expected. Now it'll just be a matter of time until the slayer and the _pacificador_ find our little surprise," he smiled as he crossed his legs at the knee—confidently.

"Do not underestimate the power of this slayer. It was hard enough killing the last one and leaving no trace. They're going to come fully armed and with backup—these are not children, Kemp—these are dangerous warriors that will die for their cause. They don't do it for the money—they do it because it's right."

"Please, Javier—you make it sound poetic. But then again—we both know the battle is not here—it's not now," he replied. "We're just giving them a taste of what's to come—what their daughter will have to face—what they will die protecting."

He stood and walked to the window. "Evil always brews in the horizon. It is our job to make it come faster."

--

The bar went still with tension. One moment he was talking the next moment bullets were raining.

"Hit the deck," he cried, as he jumped off the table and tackled the nearest demon.

Buffy flipped and twisted her knife into the nearest demon's back. It fell on the floor whimpering. She was grabbed from behind and flipped.

Lucy pulled out her sword—good thing she grew up knowing Tai Kwan. Her grandfather had insisted she know how to be one with her sword. And she was—both she and the sword stared down at the rolling head from the demon she had just beheaded.

Mario pulled out both of his 10 gauges and smiled at the two vampires before him who approached him smiling.

"We're vampires, you idiot," one of the said.

"They shoot stakes, you asshole," he said, as they crumbled to the floor in dust.

Dalton punched the head of one of the demons. "Well that's just plain rude, boys. Don't have nuh respect fo' a man the law," he said pulling out this own shotgun. "Yuh mamma ought to teach ya better."

/BANG/

"Guess we'll neva know."

"Ever heard of this, mate?" Spike asked the demon before him as he pointed the _Rubio_ at him. "Call 'im, _Rubio_."

The demon's face fell in astonishment as the trigger was pulled and he was shot right through the gut.

Buffy twisted the creature's hand behind him as she punched another one in the face and kicked a third one in the gut.

"Tell me what you know about Glory and her crusty minions," she hissed in its ear.

"I know nothing," he gasped.

"Then you're no use to me." Small hand that sliced his vertebrae with a sharp knife and and left him tumbling on the floor.

The other two got up. "I suppose neither of you know of Glory," she said casually reaching for her AK-47. Both of them looked at her in confusion. "Nope, didn't think so," she smiled. "Bang, bang—you're dead."

Both bodies dropped to the ground.

Lucy backhanded the vampire and with agility staked him in the back.

Mario dropped and rolled on the floor as the demon shot at him—one bullet grazed his shoulder but it was clean shot. Clenching his teeth he pulled out the knife on his booth and stabbed him two times on the back shoulder blade.

Dalton smiled at the woman before him—she had a sword in one hand and a bat on the other. "Haven't seen one of those in a long time," he said, pointing to the bat. She swung it at him.

"Now you'll feel it," she sneered.

He ducked her and quickly pinned both of her arms behind her back, restraining her movement.

"Ma' momma taught me neva to hit da' ladies," he said.

"Never?" she asked breathing deeply.

He shook his head and she smiled. "Good," she said, lifting her legs quickly over her head and kicking his neck.

He rolled to the floor but quickly caught her foot, sending her sprawling to the floor next to him.

"But ah's make an 'ception," he said before hitting her hard across the face.

Spike stabbed the guy behind him and quickly punched the man before him. He lost his knife and gun—therefore it was back to "fist and fangs".

"Spike!" he turned at the sound of Buffy's voice. He saw the creature coming behind him and from the corner of his eye he saw Buffy throw him her knife.

With timing and ease, he caught the blade and sliced the demon open. With satisfaction, he saluted her and attacked the other demon approaching.

Though Buffy was growing tired she knew she had to find out where Glory was. It gave her energy to know that one of these lowlifes knew where her daughter might be.

"Give me a reason to not kill you," she asked the vampire before her.

The creature grinned and flashed her his fangs.

"Ok—the Dracula look, way over that."

Stake through the heart and ash on her clothes. "Damn! I liked this coat too," she pouted and turned to her next attacker.

--

"Dark forces are at play," Zeta confided in Troll as they prepared the weapons for when the rest came.

The old man nodded. "Feels stronger than usual—maybe a prophecy?"

"Could be—if Loret got by right under our noses for the past six years that she's been with us then anything can," she answered and carefully placed the slayer's sword on the table. She let go of the heavy cloth that protected her skin from the deadly metal.

Troll nodded. "The powers would not go through the trouble of bringing her back if they didn't think it was absolutely necessary."

"You bet your ass it is."

Both players turned rapidly to face the voice.

When they saw who it was the both groaned. "How the hell did you do that?" Zeta asked confused. "Is this 'get by Zeta day' or somethin'," she asked.

"Relax, kid—I am here for those two pains in my ass I can't seem to get away from," Whistler said as he casually leaned against the doorframe.

--

Buffy looked around what used to be the bar they had entered. Blood was splattered all over the floor. There were only two standing chairs from the forty-some that there had been when they entered. Dead bodies of demons lay mutilated and cut on the floor mixed with plenty of sickening vampire dust.

"Well…what a lovely sight," Spike snorted as he disentangled himself from underneath a body.

"Indeed," Lucy added, grabbing her sword from the floor.

"Look what we have here," Buffy smiled as she reached behind the bar and pulled out the cowering bartender. He clutched his smashed hand to his chest and whimpered as the slayer dragged him to view.

"Are you going to talk or am I going to have to smash your other hand?" Buffy asked, slamming him against the wall.

The demon groaned and glared at her. "Fuck off, slayer-bitch. I don't talk to your kind," he hissed.

"Really? Why?" she asked innocently.

"Up yours,_ niña_—I am not afraid of you," he spat out.

"Oh you shouldn't be afraid of me—you should be afraid that your protruding body parts will soon be missing," she punched him on the nose.

"Owwww!" he clutched his broken nose. "Why don't you ask me what you want and get it over with!"

"Why? So you can tell me you know jack-shit?" another punch to the face.

"That was the general idea, _muñeca_," he spit out blood.

"What do you know about Glory?" Buffy asked slamming him again against the wall.

"Suck ma' balls, slayer," he spat out, grinning evilly.

That ended his easy trial as he was roughly grabbed and flipped on his stomach. Sharp fangs graced his neck. "The lady asked you a question, _amigo_. I would answer her if I were you," Spike hissed—completely losing his patience.

"So you're the legendary hero they talk about in these parts—tell me, do all your women do your dirty work?"

A clean blade through his shoulder as he howled in pain.

The sharp knife tacked him to the table—making moving a chore.

"I'll let 'er start on the 'dirty work' as soon as I am done playing Russian Roulette on you." The click of a gun was heard, loading of a single bullet.

The bartender saw the .38 revolver in the pale hand. A sick rolling sound was heard—it stopped. Cold metal against his temple.

"Well—you've got to ask yourself one question. Do you feel lucky…well do ya…punk?"

No answer.

A sharp click.

A relieved gasp from the pinned demon.

Buffy was biting her nails to the core as she watched Spike mentally torture the man.

"Round two, who will be the lucky contestant? I wonder—well kiddies, the waitin's over." Pale finger on the trigger.

"Wait!" the demon cried out. "I'll talk you son-of-a-bitch," he said. "Just put away the party favors and get me up!"

Spike lowered the gun and squatted eye-level with him. "I'll let you in on a little secret. I hate liars—used to be one m'self so I know the game, I wrote the rules. You fuck me over and I swear on every single drop of borrowed blood that runs through my veins I will kill you and everyone you care 'bout—right down to your Chihuahua and your damn goldfish."

An excited nod was all he got from the frightened creature.

"Good—now start talking," Spike said, placing the revolver back on the table ready to be used if needed.

"Everything?"

"Everything," Buffy answered for him.

--

"I hope you're happy!" Javier spit out to the senator and some high commanders. "All of you!"

They just looked at him impassively.

"Spike, Rainbow bright and the rest of the colors just completely destroyed one of my bars," he spit out. "That was an strategic point in the underworld! Every single demon and vampire dead—not even the cook was spared."

"The cook ate humans—I doubt the Girl Scout would have let him walk," the senator said, flicking his wrist.

"That is not the point, Kemp, and you know it. Some of the best demons I used for covert operations were killed today and all because you want to have a little girl. They're coming for us—Harry. And they'll kill us—kill us all, including your trophy god. She's as good as dead," Javier said slowly, never taking his gaze from the man.

"You obviously have no faith in our project," Kemp said, tapping his golden fountain pen against the oak table.

"I live by the faith of my gun, senator—just like you. But these creatures—they're wild, and like a pissed off mommy bear they'll come for their cub. Heaven help those who took it."

"If I were you, I would keep my lips sewed together, Mr. Berrios—and only open them when you are told."

--

"Did you know of this council?" Buffy asked Spike as he cleaned his hands at the bar sink.

She saw his jaw clench and unclench. He felt her small hand on her shoulder, followed by a light squeeze.

"The Black Council was established in 2031. It was founded by then Senator Lindsey McDonald and his wife Lilah Morgan. It just appeared over night—but the news of it got around quick in the demon world. When I accepted my position in World War IV there had never been any instances to date of any violent attacks from the council. We always saw it as a "stuffy old men's club". It's only by invitation that you can sit on the board and the members are unknown. We know there are world senators and world generals, admirals and such but other than that we have no idea who sits in the bloody round table." Spike sighed and dried his hands.

He turned to look at her.

"So they're human?" she asked biting her lip.

"You'd be surprised how dangerous and heartless humans can be. I have an excuse—I have no soul. What excuse do terrorists have? They have no excuse, pet."

She remained silent studying him.

"Power, pet. Fortune and glory. Money is the root of all evil—you find out who hired, who placed the money on the table and I'll tell you who the bad guys is," he said and lit a cigarette.

"Is that why Loret did it?" Her eyes went hard with hatred.

"I pay 'er three million a year!" he spit out—not mad at her but at the entire situation.

"What?" Buffy asked him incredulously.

"3 million. If that's not enough I don't know what is," Spike said, blowing out smoke.

They remained silent as they both contemplated the information.

Buffy's eyes went wide and her head snapped up to look at Spike.

"What?" he asked.

"Fortune and Glory, Spike. Fortune and….GLORY," she grasped his forearm as she literally pulled him out of the messy bar.

"Pet…you've got me confused," Spike said, motioning his players to follow them.

"I'll explain—let's get back to the game room."

--

The metal cuffs on her tiny hands burned into her skin. But she remained motionless—completely still as she stared at the bad man before her.

"Get those off her," he stated as he saw her condition. He smiled at her and she recoiled even further.

A guard came forward and unlocked her cuffs, letting them fall with a loud thud on the floor.

"Better?" the man asked her.

She stared defiantly back at him.

"Are you not going to talk to me?" he squatted down in front of her.

"You're a bad man," she whispered.

He chuckled at the tears dried on her brave face.

"That I am, little one. And you can tell, can't you," he said, getting closer to her.

She remained motionless.

"You don't have to talk to me—it's ok," he reached out and rubbed her bruised wrist.

"Then don't touch me," she said, pulling her hands back from his grasp.

He smiled again and stood up looking over at Loret who watched patiently from the door.

"Clean her up. I want her nice and pretty by dinner. We'll have roast duck, duckling. Do you like duck?" he asked Vanessa.

The little girl said nothing as she stared hard at him.

He smiled at her.

"Yeah, I think you'll like roast duck." He chuckled and walked out, leaving behind a smiling Loret.

"C'mon mini-slayer. Let's get you nice and pretty for when your mommy and daddy come to get you."

--

"They're coming," Zeta said as she jumped up from her chair and looked at the elevator door.

They heard the voice of the slayer talking rapidly and Spike questioning everything she said.

"Do they ever change?" Whistler asked as he munched on a chocolate bar.

"Did they always fight?" Asked Troll.

Whistler snorted. "Believe me when I say that this is not fighting."

The elevator doors eased open and out stepped an arguing Spike and Buffy followed by a very annoyed group of players.

"Why can't you just come out and say it—not like I'm not gonna hear it later on," Spike argued.

"Cause I am only going to say it once," she defended.

"Will you two shut up! I've got a schedule to keep 'ere!" Whistler exclaimed as he tossed the remains of his chocolate bar into the nearest trashcan.

Spike jumped at him and before any of them could register what had happened the vampire had him pinned to the wall by the neck in full game face.

A low growl was heard from Spike's throat as he was inches away from ripping his throat out.

"Let me explain," Whistler shocked out.

Buffy walked up behind Spike and glared down at the pinned demon. "Your time for explaining is over—time to die."

Spike's grip tightened.

"If the girl dies then so does the prophecy," the demon gasped.

"Nobody is going to die," Buffy hissed.

"Billions actually—she dies then so do billions, she was placed on this earth to be protected by you two!"

Spike lessened his grip and stared down at the man.

"You stole something from us, mate. I have given fifty years of my life to serve the powers—Buffy has died for your cause and you re-pay us with this?!" he cried.

"You people," he laughed. "Always seeing things in the negative, don't you realize that this has been planned. From the beginning of time this has been planned. Not your stakes, or your guns, or your technologically advanced crap would have stopped it. It was meant to happen. Deal with it."

"Deal with this," Buffy said as she punched him on the nose.

"The hell was that for, kid?" Whistler gasped as he held his nose.

"You're a smart little demon—figure it out yourself." She replied, crossing her arms.

"Well you can kill me, or hear what I have to say!"

Spike let him go and he slid to the floor in a heap.

"Temperamental in your old age, ol' man?" he glared at Spike as he took his hat off and ran his fingers through his hair.

"If I were you I would keep the name calling to the minimum—unless you have a death wish, in which case I would be happy to oblige." Buffy told him.

"Keep the obituaries empty, kid—got no death wishes from me."

"Bugger," Spike muttered as he paced the room. "So talk."

"Got anything to eat—or maybe good scotch?" Whistler asked hopefully.

Buffy decked him in the nose again.

Grabbing his nose he glared down at her. "I see you're all out," he gasped. "Alright—what did you find out in that little massacre you did in downtown?"

"The black council—and their knowledge of the prophecy, they brought Glory back, Loret is working for them. But we have no idea why they would want Vanessa other than to hurt us." Spike answered.

Whistler nodded. "Good info."

"So they're opening the hellmouth?" Buffy asked impatiently.

"No," Whistler snorted. "It's all 'bout the money, kid. Think about it—you hold under your control the strongest human in the history of the world. She's an unbeatable warrior and she's on your side. Slayer can't take her—the _pacificador_ can't track her. She's invisible. What they want they'll get."

"The plot is still soft," Lucy said, tapping her fingers on the table.

Whistler nodded. "That's the thing—we have no idea what they want her for."

Another deck to the nose. It sent the demon to the floor—clutching his nose in pain.

"What the hell was that for?" he cried.

"For lying," Buffy stated and leaned back watching him stand with difficulty.

"It's the truth! The powers don't know! Why do you think we brought you along—nothing gets by you."

"If the powers couldn't sense it what makes you think Buffy can?" Spike said. "Not that I am saying she's not good—she's the best, believe me. But Buffy's a fighter—like me. We're not oracles or angelic messengers."

"It's not her who will defeat them," Whistler said, with a glint of that freaky smile of his that told you he knew more than what he said.

"Then who?" she asked.

"Vanessa," Whistler said.

"Then why bring me back?" Buffy questioned.

"You're gonna teach her how," he responded.

"Teach her what?" she asked getting irritated.

"Perfection."

--

The room was dark but the dark was welcoming. She saw him standing looking out the window—down at the city that belonged to him.

She walked up behind him and wrapped her arms around him.

He sighed with comfort and leaned into her touch.

She could almost place her chin on his shoulder—that's what she loved about him. They were compatible.

"You're worried," she said quietly.

"More than worried," he answered her.

The minutes clicked by in the silent dark room.

"We'll find her—when the time is right." Buffy told him.

Spike smiled. "Ironic."

"What?"

"This situation—reminds me of that night…" He choked up.

"The night of Glory?" she asked walking to stand in front of him.

He nodded but continued to look out the window.

"It was a bad night," she told him and watched his features sharpen in shadows of the room.

He agreed with her. "I'm sorry, Buffy." He turned from her and headed to the bed where he sat down and started taking off his boots.

She looked at him in confusion.

"Sorry for what?" she took the place next to him.

He didn't say anything but continued untying his laces.

"Spike…" she tried.

He ignored her and concentrated on his task.

That's when she saw the traces, liquid traces of his pain.

"Spike? Why are you crying?" she whispered taking his face in her hands.

He refused to look into her eyes.

"Look at me," she pleaded.

He shrugged his face from her hands. "Please go away."

"No," she said and stood her ground.

"Please…just let me be."

"Have you ever left me?" she asked him.

He knew the answer but would not say it.

"Therefore I will not leave you," she said taking his hand.

He remained still—never meeting her eyes. "Yeah, but you've never failed me."

"You've never asked me for anything…plus you've never failed me."

He stood up and paced the room.

"How can you say that?" he told her. "How can you sit there—looking at me as if you love me…"

"I do love you," she reminded.

"But pet, how can you love me? This monster that hides behind the charade of a hero? I am no hero, Buffy. 'Not the poof with the black cape. I'm a mean rude man who is paying and will pay for the rest of my life the mistakes I made in that tower 100 yrs ago."

"What mistakes are you talking about?" she stood up to face him.

"I let you die!" he cried waving his angry hands in the air.

"You? What the hell are you talking about, Spike—because I well remember jumping out of my own free will!

He grabbed her shoulders and vamped out to emphasize his point. "You jumped 'cause you had no choice. Because of this face—look at it well, Buffy—this face failed you. I failed you—I let Doc cut Dawn. Because of me you died." He let her go and his face melted to his human mask.

She slapped him hard across the face—sending him stumbling back. "You idiot!"

He looked at her confused.

"How many days? How many years have you told yourself this lie? Tell me? Drunk yourself silly over a stupid unbelievable lie that not even you believe, but your grief is so strong and so bitter that it makes you lie to yourself! You idiot."

"Oh! No problem! Tell me I did it for nothing," he muttered miserably.

"You did do it for nothing." She said—bright pink with anger. "Tell me who went up there. Was it Xander? Angel? Giles? Riley? Who was it, Spike?"

Spike grumbled and shifted his feet.

"Tell me—say it loud and clear." She told him.

He finally met her eyes for the first time that night. "It was Spike…it was me."

"Funny…I though only heroes were thrown off towers trying to save scared little girls."

"Little girls who lost everything because of this 'hero'," he said.

"Did she love you?" she asked him.

Spike's brow furrowed. "Yeah."

"Then she didn't lose everything. She got a pretty big chunk if you ask me…a handsome, overprotective chunk."

She snaked her arms around his torso and leaned into him.

He looked down into that face he loved that much.

"You think I am handsome?" he asked her with a hint of a smirk on his face.

"Humm..gonna have to see 'all' of you to come up with that decision." She kissed his jaw.

"I see…not the very convincing type." He shivered when she sucked on his bottom lips.

"You're gonna have to work hard to convince me." She let go of his lip and started on his neck.

He reached out and cupped her butt, lifting her off the floor. She wrapped her legs around him.

"Better get to work then—lots of convincing to do."

Those were his last words as he lowered her down to the bed.

The sheets were cold from the AC in the room. She reached out and brought their lips together.

Both searched out each other's body with their eager hands as their mouths battled.

She moaned as he left her mouth and started biting her nipples lightly above the cotton that covered her breast.

"Love me," she whispered as he lifted her shirt.

He could only stare down at her. There she was--with only black pants and a white lace bra that stood out from her smooth golden skin. Her golden hair was spread out above her head contrasting against the red silk sheets of the bed.

Her cheeks were flushed and she panted with want. Her knees slightly spread—begging to be exposed and touched.

"Buffy…" was all he could say as he sank to kiss the slight curve of her stomach.

He traced his tongue—tasting her skin as he explored her bellybutton.

Buffy gasped as she felt his cool tongue wet her, and she squirmed with need—those strong hands exploring her trunk and back as she arched to his touch.

He moved up slowly—taking his time, enjoying this moment with all he had left.

His thumb gently rubbed her erect nipples. Needing to touch the soft plump skin underneath the material, he lifted her up—reaching behind her to unclasp her bra.

She held the bra to her chest as she made him wait. He took her mouth in his as he coaxed her to show him her chest.

Gently the lace slipped from her hands—dropping to the floor next to his boots.

He left her mouth and looked deeply into her eyes—they were almost brown with need. She breathed hard—lips swollen from the passionate kisses.

He laid her back down and she closed her eyes and moaned as he reached out to explore her breast. He was so hard as it was. He could have come right there as he felt the soft skin that responded to his touch. So alive—so much his.

He needed to taste—taste told him everything.

When she felt his wet tongue meet her skin she cried out. She was hot—sweat was threatening to spill--and he was cool. Like the fan you need after you've run for a while. That cooling that melts you. That was his tongue—his hands, all over her—driving her crazy making her scream.

Lips that touched and tasted until she thought she would die—naughty hands that found her button, then her zipper. But her hands her empty—she wanted needed his skin.

She found his shirt through the cloudy haze. Urging him to lift it so she could see him--touch him.

It slipped off easily.

Then there it was.

Skin against skin—hot against cold. Muscles against soft skin.

She reached out to feel him. Sharp muscles that inhabited his chest.

_Oh hello there, I've been wanting to touch you_, she told them. She nearly gasped as she found his back and he found her shoulders.

Lick. Kiss. Bite. Suck.

"Oh God," he groaned as she decided to torture him with light sucking motions to his neck.

Hard bulging groin against her leg—legs that held him by the waist in a crushing grip.

She needed it now. Her clit felt completely neglected and in serious need of company.

"Now," she whispered to his ear.

No hesitation—no distractions.

Pants slipping easily off her smooth legs. Musky smell that almost made him come.

Off they came.

Little hands on his zipper. Easy slide.

Off they came.

She arched her eyebrow at him as she saw he went commando.

Then she was fixed.

She was now the one mesmerized.

Nestled in his dark curls—looking directly at her. Large—bulging, perfect.

Pale…waiting head with pre-cum sipping from the tip.

She reached out for it as if in a trance.

She had never seen one so up close. With Angel it has been fast—no time for exploration. With Riley he was always the gentleman.

"Find something you like, pet?" he asked amused at the concentration on her face.

He shut up once she took his shaft into her hot hand.

Oh so hot. So powerful. She remained still but then she started pumping. He was rock hard—shivering with need.

Wanted to bury himself in her heat—wanted to feel her rocking underneath him. Wanted to feel her, taste her…..

That was enough, he decided.

He wanted to come inside of her.

He pulled her hand off with much reluctance.

"Want to come inside of you," he whispered as he slipped her little lace panty down her legs.

Strong, toned legs, golden beauty.

He ran his hands from her ankles to her hips.

She lay back and relished this moment.

Cool, hard fingers, tickling her hair.

She gasped.

Cool, hard fingers, finding her hot-wet-clit.

"Yes," she hissed with appreciation as he began a slow circular motion that made her buck.

She was dripping with need—swollen and waiting for him.

He smiled—quite satisfied with himself.

She found his lips and they melted into each other as he continued the steady motion of his fingers.

She was so close to coming—he could tell as she momentary spasmed under his lips.

"Please…" she begged.

Withdrawing his fingers from her heat he slicked himself down with her cum and his.

Up and down she saw his hand move. She parted her legs and waited. Sweet waiting.

He moved his cock to her entrance and grabbed her in an intimate hug.

Slowly…deliciously slow he entered her.

Her eyes went wide. She was going to come and he was not even entirely inside of her.

"Spike..," she whispered.

He found her mouth and kissed and he continued to enter,

To the edge of her womb.

He was going to pass out—definitely losing his control. But how the hell was he supposed to keep control—she was so damn tight and hot.

"You're…so damn…hot…tight…oh god," he gasped. Then she was fully stretched.

He gave her a moment to adjust but Buffy was not having it. She rolled her hips to urge him on.

Locking eyes he pumped in and out—first slowly, caressing her and kissing her. Then it was on. The power dance that they had both wanted for so long.

She flipped him over and rode him.

Firm bottom hitting his thighs every time she went down. He grabbed her breast, she pinched his nipples.

Hands—arms—in places that wanted needed touch.

Faster, faster, until he thought he would die—until she couldn't breath.

Then the sweet tingle of the coming climax in her stomach--it traveled down her leg and to her chest until she felt numb—she convulsed and there it was…

No thought, nothing—just…

He felt her spasm and he let go—his balls hardened in delicious warning.

Coming, coming, exploding in his groin and traveling through his body, numbing him—making him shiver—jump—moan—cry out.

They both screamed each other's name at the same time. Holding on to each other.

Sweat—cum—slick—delightful.

Both breathing hard, both panting, both shivering.

"I love you," he said as he kissed her sloppily on her cheeks, neck, shoulders.

"Spike…" she whimpered.

"Love you," he continued to say as he laid her down next to him—still buried inside of her.

She held him close—so sated, so loved. Happiness came forth from her and she found his lips and engaged in the slowest, sweetest kiss she had ever had.

It went on forever—still fully filled with him, cold tongue that made her want to melt.

Hands that tenderly held each other.

He almost forgot that she needed to breathe. She pulled back and gasped much needed air. Blue eyes against green.

"I love you…" she whispered and she leaned in and rested on top of him.

Slowly he pulled out of her. He brought her shaking body closer.

She held on to him…who would have thought that all those years ago when she first met him he would become her love.

She let her eyes drift in exhaustion—complete perfection.

"Buffy?" he asked.

"Mmmnn?"

"Happy?" he asked her, although he knew the answer.

She held him tighter.

"Oh yes…so happy." She smiled and fell asleep. Small smile on her lips that was duplicated on his as he drifted to met her in dreams.


	21. Riddle Me This

The Executioner --Part 19 of 100 yrs of Solitude (Races condemned to 100 yrs of solitude do not get a second opportunity on earth)

Riddle Me This --Part 20 of 100 yrs of Solitude (Races condemned to 100 yrs of solitude do not get a second opportunity on earth)

By: Isabelle

-Disclaimers: Title belongs entirely to Gabriel Garcia Marquez--just borrowing it for the sake of the story. Buffy, Spike, Whistler and all the memories belong to Joss and his crew. All other characters are entirely mine. The Elephant Man belongs to (I still have to find this info). Lyrics used belong to Buddha's Family and are used without permission.

--

She woke with a cold weight on her belly.

She glanced down at the blonde head of her sleeping lover. It moved up and down in rhythm with her breathing. Blonde locks were tousled into something she decided to call 'bed hair', and his mouth was swollen and pouty as he dreamt in peace.

She looked at him for some time—studying him.

His face, his arms, his back.

It was odd, this was the only man she loved who had actually still been there when she woke up.

He was so handsome, with a strong jaw and long lashes adorning his eyes. Though closed, she knew were bright ocean-blue. A scarred brow that sharpened his features, a peculiar chin that dimpled when he slept. His arms were strong. She decided that other than his…member, she liked his arms the most.

Her eyes wandered from his strong slender fingers to his powerful hands that shaped to a very well proportioned wrist. His forearms were enviable, well defined with little veins that bulged blue and purple under his almost translucent skin. Her eyes finally landed on his unbelievable biceps. They were…wow.  
That was all she could think. She wanted to be enveloped in those arms forever.

He was milk-white. Soft and polished. His skin disclosed secrets of well-hidden muscles under the tender flesh. He had little battle scars that were reduced to small shadows of white re-grown flesh.

His back was something else entirely. As he rested carelessly over her she could clearly see the very attractive contours of his broad back. His shoulder blades were strong and softly curved. For a man that was smaller than average, he had an amazing back—strong and pale; it looked as if he could lift her up without an ounce of effort.

Then she remembered the day she had been brought back - how easily he had lifted her from the floor. She blushed and her stomach did funny flipping things. Can a person get this turned on by a memory, she wondered. She would have never admitted it to anyone, but she had felt like she was melting when he had picked her up that day. She remembered distinctly feeling his muscles rippling through his light leather coat.

It seemed so long ago that she had been brought back, when in reality it had only been nearly two weeks. Two weeks, and here they were lying in each other's arms. Funny how things happen that way.

She shivered with satisfaction.

Last night was wonderful. After their initial session, they woke every hour and made love again. The last time had been beyond fantastic. The first few times had been rough, almost wild, but that last time… oh wow…they had nearly melted into the mattress.  
She had felt safe in those arms—a safeness that encouraged her to embrace all she was. When she was with him, she didn't have to hide her slayer-half. She never had to pretend. She was a slayer no matter what and he was a vampire—no matter how sweet and tender he could be. But that was the spark. She knew he was tamable now, but in the morning hour he would get that air of authority, that undeniable atmosphere of power that drove her wild…something else she wouldn't admit for a long time.

She lightly ran her fingers through his un-gelled hair. The curls were thick under her fingers, and in that moment she saw Vanessa's resemblance to him.

She smiled…they had a child.

True, their child was not made conventionally, but then again none of them were. Spike was killed and brought back as a demon…she hated that word, but it was the truth. She was the Chosen One, who had died and been brought back by a spell…and their child was created genetically. So what?

Just one more addition to her 'normal' family.

She realized she no longer wanted normal. Normal was so not her.

When she was young, all she could dream about was having a 'normal' life—but when she really thought about it, she knew 'normal' was just not her.

It was a teenage fantasy, a phase— like Angel was. She really had loved him, with all of her young soul—but last night she had found something that made Angel a distant memory.

Spike was it—he was the one. She smiled fondly as she remembered him in the past. Cocky and arrogant—though that had not changed much…he now seemed more at ease with himself and who he was. He had been impatient and jumpy, now he was more serene—but not the Angel-type of serene, because that would make him broody and Spike was anything but broody. More like the type that always seems to know exactly what he's doing and rises to every challenge.

His life was everything Buffy had never imagined. She had changed him. The magnitude of it all was beyond her comprehension as she realized that she not only saved this soulless being, but she also saved all those who might have died had he not changed his ways.

She looked down at his face again—The same face that many had seen in their dying moments was the same face that plenty had recognized as their salvation.

Spike didn't seek redemption—he didn't go out nightly and place his life in danger in hopes of someday earning forgiveness. He did it because it was the right thing to do. For fifty years he held the fate of the world on those strong shoulders- fifty years of pain, of death, of loneliness and guilt.

He had more than paid his price—he had earned her love in return. If they had brought her back only a few months after she died, she doubted she would have given him a chance.

Though she knew her feelings, she also knew that she would have hidden them. At that time, the line between right and wrong had been so clear. But now, he was that line. He was where good and bad collided. There was no longer a clear division. Humans, with god given souls, killed. Demons, without souls, protected.

How the world had changed—or perhaps it had been the way all along.

Demons wanted hell on earth because it was in their nature to yearn for chaos. Humans, whose nature should be good, could destroy each other without remorse simply because they chose to. She felt somewhat alien to this new perception —a lost little girl lost amidst a crowd of strangeness. But now, this soulless vampire had taken her in, cradled her from the storm and because of him, she was stronger now. She could now see the world in all its shades of grayness. And her survival instinct was healthier than ever.

Love had found its way.

That thought washed over her with the brightness of the sun. Before, she had thought of love as dreary, a thing of pain and hurt. Something gloomy that you would ponder on a rainy afternoon. But now, here in bed with the man she loved, love was summer. A promising light that lay ahead. A cold lemonade you drink on a hot summer day. It travels down your throat and refreshes you to the core, leaving you renewed and ready to face the task ahead.

Only her life didn't seem like a task anymore. If this creature had taken her responsibilities willingly, without complaints, who was she to protest. He had lost more than just her along the way. Everything. From the original Scoobies, to a little girl he watched grow into a woman, to the woman who made him the monster he once was, to the family he had recently come to care about. Yet he still bounced back. Harmed, but stronger—willing to fight to the death, willing to place everything on the line for the livelihood of good. And for people, happy meals on legs , he had once called them—he did it for them. She knew he would never admit it, but she saw it in his eyes.

From the way her cared for his servants in Spain to the people who had died saving the daughter they never knew they had. He had done it.

Back then he didn't know, he only needed someone to guide him. Angel had always had a guide—he was chosen by the powers. All that Angel did, Angel was forgiven for. And here was Spike. Fighting like a soldier and never giving up. When she hated him, when the Scoobies hated him, when they treated him like crap, he stood silently, enduring, until they came to accept him. He didn't have to become what he did—good was not in his nature, but yet he overcame his demon and had come out triumphant. This was a man of courage—who never wanted to be more than what he was, and in his humble search for his true character, he became a man to be admired.

For love.

Tears came to her eyes as she ran her fingers lightly over his hair.

He was so special. All her life, she was told that she was the chosen one. She only fought because she had no choice.

She, too, had been engineered to fight, but he…he was just a monster trying to be man, using his demon-strength to fight for good. He was no animal.

Well, it would take convincing to make him think otherwise but even he knew how much he had changed. He had never been an animal, not even at his worst.

She was reminded of a movie she saw when she was small. It had frightened her and made her lose hope. She cried for days.The movie was called _The Elephant Man_. John was born normal, a shy young boy who at the age of two began to show physical deformities His body twisted and rotted in to a monstrous appearance. People feared him. She clearly remembered one point in the movie when he is attacked by a London mob. They chased him through the train station and ripped his hat and mask off to reveal the pale disfigurement beneath. That's when he began to scream"Iam a human being, I am not a monster, I am a man." He slid to the floor as the crowd looked on with disgust.

That was Spike. He had always known he was different—as a vampire he had been wild--driven by emotion.

When he tried to become part of humanity, they saw him as a monster. His entire life had been a walk on a thin line. As a human he had been too soft, an outsider—never fitting in anywhere. As a vampire, he played by his own rules – never truly accepted by the demon world, and feared by the human. Still, his isolation didn't kill the sparkle in his eyes, the smirk on his face or the swagger of his walk.

He was a survivor.

A being that didn't try to pass himself off as something other than what he was. He was himself, who he was. He didn't waver with the times, if he liked to dress punk in an age of preppies that was him. And she admired him for it.

She had been completely lost in thought, analyizing his life, when she felt a cool hand wiping her cheeks.

"Why are you crying?" he asked her, concerned.

That only made her tears come faster—as clear blue eyes looked on with such love.

The dam broke.

Spike instantly sat up in bed and brought her into him arms. She held him for all that life held dear. Softly he rocked her and whispered comforting words that only made her cry some more.

He was completely confused. He though last night had been magical—and here she was sobbing uncontrollably on his shoulder and he had no idea what had triggered it.

"Pet, won't you talk to me?" he tried.

He didn't get a response from her for some time. She finally lifted her head and sniffed as crystal tears ran down her flushed cheeks.

"I wanted to tell you…" more tears and sniffles, "…that…you're not a monster……" The damn broke again.

He held her tighter, completely confused and almost amused at her outburst.

"Buffy, tell me, what is wrong?"

"We were so terrible to you," she muffled into his bare chest.

"Baby, that was long time ago," he said softly to her ear.

"But you were trying…you tried so hard but no one would help you—you were trying to be good and no one noticed," more sobs.

Spike could only smile down at her trembling head. She was crying cause she felt bad for him, for something he had already forgiven her for so long ago.

"It doesn't matter anymore, Buffy. That time passed—it's all in the past. No worries, pet," he said, kissing the top of her head.

"But…" she lifted her head and looked at him. "We were so terrible!"

He chuckled and kissed her lightly. "It doesn't matter, luv, look—made me a better man."

There she went again, sobbing without comfort.

"What's this, Buffy?" he pulled her away to look at her. "You're stronger than this, pull yourself together, slayer."

That did the trick. She straightened up and looked at him.

He was confused and amused.

"You told me," she swallowed, trying to control her shaky nerves. "That night, you said you knew you were a monster, but I wanted to tell you that you're not. Monsters wither and die, they give up and are killed easily. They live day after day dwelling on the destruction of human kind, on ending life. But you know what I found out? That humans can be monsters too. That beneath our skin and 'mighty soul' attitude, even with our beating hearts, we can be as cruel and as soulless as you claim to be. But you're not," she took his face in her hands and kissed his lips softly. "I love you, the monster you claim to be and the man you really are."

Spike was beyond moved. He kissed her back and held her to him. What a way to wake up. Your girlfriend starts crying and then makes you fall in love with her all over again.

"You're wonderful," he whispered.

"Me?" she asked, breathless.

He nodded and traced her face slowly, memorizing every line.

"You would make any man strive to be better," he kissed her again.

"But you did it on your own," she reminded him as he wiped her tears.

"Yeah, but in those early years it was your memory that guided me. You know, 'would Buffy like it if I did this?', 'would Buffy be upset if I said that?', things like that," he said.

Buffy pouted and looked at him. "Really?"

He smiled down at her and sucked gently and her bottom lip. "Really," he whispered.

"Oh, you two! Stop it—you're making me cry 'ere!"  
Both Slayer and vampire bolted upright and turned to face their intruder.

Whistler leaned against the doorframe, chewing on a piece of beef jerky—smiling at the couple.

Spike growled and almost jumped off the bed when he realized Buffy was naked—and so was he.

"Get out!" he roared and he covered Buffy with his body and the blanket.

The demon wiped his fake tears and sighed.

"Temper, temper. Really, slayer—you should teach him to control that. Now—let's get to business."

"No, now you get out before you lose parts of your anatomy," Buffy hissed, very pissed at the demon.

"Ouch, that hurt, kid. But really, we have work to do—we can make an analysis of Spike 'ere later'."

"OUT!" Spike shouted standing up and literally throwing the demon out.

Buffy watched him with appreciation as he walked back to the bed in all his naked glory.

She arched her eyebrow. _Oh yeah, all mine_, she grinned to herself.

"Now, pet—you were saying?" he asked, joining her in bed and kissing her senseless.

She was getting heated again, as she felt the friction between the sheets.

She moaned into the kiss and reached out cupping his butt.

He hissed in appreciation as she sucked gently on his neck.

Mr. Pointy joined them with much enthusiasm.

She grinned into his neck. "You sleep with a stake?" she joked.

"Oh, yeah, in case I need it to slay the slayer."

There was pounding on the door. They pulled away from each other, startled.

"I can hear you in there! Get out here and save your daughter, you two," Whistler cried from behind the door.

Spike groaned and slumped down on top of her, burying his tousled head in her shoulder.

"Can I kill 'im?" he murmured.

"No," she replied.

"Bugger."

--

_Let's hurt these motherfuc _

_Entering the dark zone of the kings and queens _

_This is the mind set of these schizophrenics _

_that will be judged by all the people _

"Ok people, look alive!" Spike told them as he hoisted his bag over his shoulder and led the way out the door.

"I love the moment before a fight—gets me all pumped up!" Mario said, hitting an invisible punching bag.

Buffy rolled her eyes at him. "Didn't get any last night, did ya?"

He sighed and grabbed his own bag. "Who's keeping track?"

She smirked at him—pleased with herself that she was finally getting with the program.

"Mario—lay off my girl." Spike said without looking behind him.

"Spike I wasn't…"

"Save it, shorty." Buffy replied, shoving another bag at him.

He glared at her. "That's it! I am transferring to South Africa."

"What's in South Africa?" she asked him.

"Another slayer," Zeta commented coming up behind them.

"I keep forgetting we have more than one." Buffy commented after she was a bit confussed.

"Hey! Gennie looks good!" he defended.

"And you're married," the woman reminded him.

"Well you know—in the work place…feelings develop."

Spike stopped—making them all literally run into him.

"Hey, man—what'd deal?" Dalton asked as his belongings spilled to the floor.

Spike turned and grabbed Buffy's hand.

The slayer was beyond amused as her lover pulled her out in the front.

"Ok, what did I do?" Mario asked confused.

Whistler smiled and threw his arm around the young man. "C'mere, kid—let me tell you a story."

--

"They're coming." Senator Kemp smiled down at the witch that read the tarots.

"How sure?" Javier asked.

"Tanita is never wrong," he stated.

Javier nodded and watched with a careful eye as the witch stood up with her raggedy skirt and her clinking beads.

She slivered out of the room and the mist of darkness that surrounded her followed.

Javier sighed in relief.

"You didn't like her, did you?" the Senator asked as he walked to his desk and picked up the phone.

"I don't like the occult—I like things that you can see and touch," he replied.

The man chuckled and dialed a number. "Peter, in a few hours the slayer, the vampire and their band of misfits will get here. Make sure they are given a warm welcome."

--

"Don't you look pretty," Glory told the little girl dressed in a pure white dress.

Vanessa clutched the little pig in her arms and stepped back from the woman.

"Don't worry, kid. Your mommy and daddy will be here soon, don't you want to see them die?" Glory asked her as she twirled the little girl's soft hair around her finger.

"My daddy Spike said that he wouldn't leave me—he told me he'll always come for me." She said holding the woman's gaze.

"Aren't you…special," she replied smiling.

Glory grabbed her little arms—making her drop the pig. The little girl screamed. "Let's play a game—it's called 'can daddy save you before I kill you'."

--

_I hear all these voices in my head and none are them can help me _

_I feel millions of people that pray for me to loose my cool and do some bad _

_This time I am going to hit all of them without any remorse _

_And may God help you and save you from my fury _

They all stood still and looked up at the building before them.

"Good lawd," Dalton whispered as he looked at the building that stood almost one hundred stories high.

"Didn't they discontinue buildings that big?" Troll asked as he, too, stared in awe.

"In 2001—when that whole World Trade Center terrorist attack happened," Lucy replied.

"Mmmm….and you remember that?" asked Mario.

"Didn't you learn about that in school?"

"I don't remember much—I was busy fucking," Mario responded taking out his binoculars.

Buffy, Zeta and Lucy all rolled their eyes at him.

"Shit," he said looking at them and placing down his binoculars.

"What?" Spike asked his aide.

"The roof's covered, there must be over three hundred vamps in there," Mario replied.

"Actually more like 375," Zeta corrected.

They all glared at her.

"Just doing my job, people—don't kill the messenger."

"Ok—we'll have to blow it up," Lucy said, calculating numbers in her palm pilot.

"You can't blow it up—that's a valuable piece of property!" Spike cried out.

"Your daughter is up there and all you can think about is about property value?" Buffy asked her boyfriend, a bit bewildered.  
"Typical billionaire attitude," Lucy murmured under her breath.

"Ok, enough 'bout me. The slayer and I will head up--you remain behind and watch our backs. This is our fight--dispatch the decoys and the fledgings. The ladies are ours."

They all nodded and watched him and Buffy walk around the south side of the building.

--

"They're here, sir."

"Good--proceed with phases A and B--make sure there's plenty of decoys," the Senator said before returning to his game of chess with the general.

--

"Spike, let me do it--it's my job," Buffy insisted as she watched him adjust the suction cups that were strapped to his hands and knees.

"Have you ever done this?" he asked.  
Buffy shrugged and pouted. "No."

He smiled and kissed her pout.

"Trust me." Buffy took a deep breath and nodded.

She watched him as he tightened the straps and finished adjusting them. "This shouldn't take more than ten minutes--you'll be fine without me."

"I can't guarantee that," she said, smiling seductively.

Spike glared at her.

"Pet, I need to climb a building--how I am supposed to do that with a hard on?"

"Oh, like you mind," she grabbed his neck and brought him down for a kiss.

He smiled when they pulled apart. "This will all be over before you know it...she'll be alright," he reassured her, running his hand through her hair.

"She'd better be," Buffy replied trying not to think of the possibility that they might not find Vanessa.

"Gotta go now, pet." He said and began climbing the building--the suction cups popping as he pulled his hand free to grip higher on the window.

"Were did you learn to that anyway?" she cried out as he started ascending the glass.

He stopped and looked down at her black figure and smiled. "Turkey."

She smiled up at him and threw him a kiss.

Her heart was beating a mile a minute—she pushed the prospect of him falling to the back of her mind. She refused to worry. Deep breath. She watched until he disappeared to the black of the night.

She suddenly remembered that she was in a strange town with baddies lurking about.

Baddies, she thought, picking up Spike's language now.

"Well, well, mates. Lookie what we got here."

_Step to my face if you have any balls _

_Pray to god that you come out of here alive _

_And if you're a man—I don't give a f, you've stepped over the boundaries and you'll pay for that _

_Stop—I am tired of you backstabbers, that hurts my fuc soul, even though I swear I ain't got one _

All the hairs on Buffy's neck stood on end when she heard the raspy voice behind her.

Not vampire--her senses were not prickling, so it could only mean one thing.

She turned around to look at the men. _Dumb humans. _

"Hey there, lassie. What's a pretty li'l thing like you doing on a dark street like this?"

Buffy glowered at the dirty humans. There were about six of them, dressed in dark clothes. They blended into the night. The scent of liquor was in the air along with the stench of unwashed bodies.

"Walk away now," she warned him crossing her arms.

"Ohhh, a feisty one, boys. I like 'em like that." The leader smiled at her, showing a mouth full of missing teeth.

"Yeah," one of the men added while undressing her with his eyes.

Buffy thought idly, _didn't they notice she had five guns?_

She took a deep breath and glared at each of them. "One last warning--this is one chick you don't want to pick a fight with."

One if them smiled, showing a mouth full of gold. "I like 'em though."

Buffy slowly reached for the axe that was hanging on her small back. "Ok, boys."

The handle slipped down to her hand until she held it comfortably. She smiled. "Let's dance."

They had no idea what hit them. One moment, she looked like easy prey, the next, she was some type of Wonder Woman

"Cabrona!" one hissed as she sliced his leg and then kicked him in the same place.

"You're lucky I don't understand Spanish--look me up in a couple of months and we'll have some fun." She winked at him.

Kick. Punch. Hit.

In a matter of seconds the only one left standing was the toothless leader.

He was trembling as he watched the little blonde with a bloody axe in her hand walking towards him without having shed a bead of sweat.

"Wh-who are you," he stammered as he backed up into the wall.

_Even the devil would sell his soul to get you off the planet _

_This life sure hurts as hell _

_I find myself alone—in four little walls _

_Don't let yourself be ran over and be hurt _

"I told you—I'm one chick that you shouldn't have messed with."

She walked closer to him and he nearly peed his pants as he saw the glimmer of the axe in the dim street lamp.

"You can't be 'er...I saw her die, slayers are not immortal!" he cried.

"I'll give you a tip, oh toothless wonder--when one dies," she crouched in front of him and slipped a knife out of her waistband.

"Another one is called."

He fainted.

She stared at him with amusement.

"Must be getting better in your ol' age."

Buffy turned her head slowly and smiled up at a smirking Spike.

She shrugged as she stood. "Was just warming up."

He nodded and approached her. "Cardiovascular is always recommended."

She replaced her knife. (guess you meant knife.. hee hee)

"C'mon--lets work on the stretching."

They felt eyes surrounding them as they entered the silent main chamber of the building.

"Remember, get the girl and bolt. Mario is working his magic outside," Lucy whispered into the intercom as they stopped to survey the area.

All the players nodded and stood their ground. They waited for their sign.

--

_Better to show face so they see what you're made of _

_Because when you're ahead millions of friends are behind you _

_If you ain't got nothing they all leave you fast and quick _

_All these motherfuc I've erased them from my list _

"Light the flare," Spike whispered to Buffy. The slayer took out the match and dragged it across the sole of her shoe.

The small orange light flickered in the darkness.

She brought the flame to the flare and smiled as it instantly came to life.

"Bombs away," she whispered and dropped the burning amber blaze to the floor below.  
--

They saw the light descending through the darkness before the evil eyes in the darkness did.

"Play time," Lucy whispered into the ear-piece with a small smirk.

_Entering the dark zone of the kings and queens _

_This is the mindset of these schizophrenic _

_That will be judged by all the people _

_And it was on. _

The yellow eyes in the darkness had no idea what hit them as the five humans they were stalking turned on them.

"Evenin' folks, don't suppose any of you have a light," Dalton said as he pointed a large weapon at them.

No answer.

He smiled and a sickening clicking was heard.

"No trouble, I hav' one."

A blast of hot fire shot out from the barrel.

--

"C'mon, lets go," Spike said as he pulled Buffy's hand along.

"We can't leave them," she told him desperately.

"Believe me when I say, they can take care of themselves," he replied over his shoulder.

She shrugged and followed him, retrieving her crossbow and mentally preparing for the hardest part.

--

"Bring her in," the man said to the guards dressed in ceremonial garb.

"Tonight we take her innocence and turn her to the dark," the Senator said addressing the Council member that was smiling with approval. "This is what we've been waiting for—make no mistakes."

A squeal of terror was heard as little Vanessa was dragged by two armed guards through the door.

She was dressed from head to toe in white silk. Tear tracks marred her face, her hair had been let loose and combed,

letting her waist length curls shape her small scared face.

"I am not afraid of you," she spit out to the Senator who looked down at her smiling.

"Good, I wouldn't want you to be," he said waving his hand to the guard.

They reacted by dragging her along and laying her down on a ceremonial table. The little girl struggled against the guards as they tried to tie her down with leather straps.

"No!" she screamed to the room.

All faces remained passive, except for one that kept wiping his forehead with a handkerchief.

"Nothing to be afraid of, Mr. Berrios," the general assured the worried man.

Just then, Vanessa screamed as she saw the dark woman she didn't like come into the room, wearing a formal robe.  
There were minions at each of her sides, carrying candles and incense.

"My daddy Spike is going to come for me!" she screamed at them.

"They are getting closer," the witch beside the Senator told him in confidentiality.

The Senator smiled and whispered in her ear, "They are being taken care of."

--

Buffy and Spike were making quick work of the guards that had come running down the hall, but both froze when they heard a familiar voice scream in terror.

"This way," Buffy told him.

They sped down another few hallways but stopped in their tracks when the lights suddenly went off.

The red emergency lights blinked eerily through the corridor.  
"Do I know how to pick them, or do I know how to pick them?" he smirked at her.

"The players?" she asked him.

He nodded.

"Or maybe a player."

They both turned to look toward the voice that came from the far end of the hall.

_I hear all these voices in my head and none of them can help me _

_I feel millions of people that pray for me to loose my cool and do some bad _

There she stood. Dressed from head to toe in a black leather catsuit.

Her red hair was pulled into a tight ponytail and she held a single long jungle knife in her hand.

The blade twinkled as she brandished it.

"You bitch," Spike spit out lunging toward her without thinking. Buffy grabbed his arms to keep him at bay, never taking her eyes from the redhead.

"Go," she told him. "Save her, save our baby—lady Godiva is mine." Buffy smiled back at the player.

_Now come and tell—all those asses that were my friends _

_Don't they dare come back and say that they were my friends _

_These people don't care what happens and what people will say _

_That's why I fight on my own to get my own dough _

Spike looked from his ex-girlfriend to his true love.

"Be careful," he whispered to Buffy and kissed her cheek. He turned to look at the redhead one last time and gave her his signature smirk.

"See you in hell, Loret," he said as he turned to go. Then he stopped and looked back at her. "Oh and by the way…you're fired."

He disappeared into the dark hall.

Both Buffy and Loret looked at each other, lightening tingling in their veins as the anticipation ran through them.

"Hope you told Romeo his last goodbye, cause both of you die tonight." The blade sparkled again as she twisted her wrist.

"Oh no, honey—today it's you who dies," Buffy replied dropping all of her weapons except one. She held onto a long blade similar to her opponent's.

"Shall we dance?" the slayer asked her.

--

"Behind you!"

Troll turned around and saw the arrow rushing toward him.

With a small chant and a raise of his hand, the arrow was suspended in the air by a mystical field.

He looked at the creature who had shot it. Smiling, he twisted his wrist and the arrow followed the demon like a patriot missile.

"Count to three," Lucy told the vampire whose hand she had twisted around his back.

"What the hell for, bitch?" he asked.

She scowled at him and plunged the stake in his heart. "And here, I thought I was being nice, giving you three more seconds to live." She shrugged.

"Ya know, in Georgia, we's be polite to our brothers," Dalton said to the large black vampire in front of him.

"This ain't Georgia, boy," the taller man responded crouching down to a fighting position.

"Good, ah wus afraid I would have to be polite," he smiled.

A sharp blade was pressed to her back and the demon grabbed her throat tightly.

"Now you die," the it snickered in Zeta's ear.

Without a second thought, she flipped him over, grabbed his knife and sliced his throat.

"Damn, why do they always think that I can't fight."

Mario's hands worked daftly on the C-4 in his hand.

He kept chanting under his breath. "Ay, ay , ay, ay, canta y no llore, porque cantando se alegran cielito lindo, los corazones." (Oh, oh, oh, oh, please sing and don't cry, because when you sing, my love, my heart is happy."

Blue wire crossed with green and he smiled at his handiwork. "Damn I am good," he told himself. Then looked around and adjusted his package. He sniffed the air. "What I wouldn't give for a good fuck," he muttered to himself.

--

The chanting was growing louder. Vanessa's ears hurt, and her wrists against the leather belts.

She whimpered as she saw a large knife being held in front of her—she had promised herself she wouldn't cry.  
She closed her eyes tightly as the knife was brought down to the inside of her elbow.

She felt the cold steel and bit her lip in anticipation.

But the knife never cut—She opened her eyes. The hand of the dark lady was pulled back.

And there he stood.

"Daddy!" she cried out in pure relief as she saw Spike in full game face, growling at Glory.

"Glory—did you really think you're going to win? You tortured me, got my slayer killed, hurt Dawn, murdered my family and you were just about to sacrifice my daughter? You must have a serious death wish." He growled at her.

_Let them try to stop me—they find face to face one rebellious man _

_That's why I am going to scream—because they will hear _

--

The battle was on. The slayer ducked, rolled and blocked a punch.

"What's wrong little girl?" Loret taunted. "Need your vampire pet to stay strong?"

Buffy jumped up and kicked the woman in the gut. Loret reeled back. "You know what I did to the last person who taunted me?"

Loret shrugged uninterested and swung at Buffy, but the slayer saw her coming and ducked, bringing her hand up to slash her back. The woman cried out in pain and Buffy leaned into her ear. "I sent them to hell," she hissed.

_Entering the dark zone of the kings and queens _

_This is the mind set of these schizophrenics _

_That will be judged by all the people _

Loret threw her head back, butting Buffy in the nose. The slayer hissed and fell back, clutching her nose as she glared at the woman.

"Is that the way you show love?" she asked. "Then really I am impressed."

Buffy smiled and jumped back up, punching the woman knocking her against the wall. "You know I liked you—we could have been friends, but then you went and tried to get into my boyfriend's pants. And that just didn't fly." She reached out and backhanded Loret again, blood dripped from the redhead's mouth. "The last bitch who tried something like that with my man ended up in a coma."

Buffy grabbed Loret's hair and brought her face close to her own. "Your first mistake was messing with me. Your second was messing with Spike. Your third was choosing Glory's side, and the last and most stupid one," Buffy seethed with anger, "was kidnapping my daughter."

Loret smiled through her haze. "Aren't we a loving mommy," she whispered. Without warning the redhead's hand lashed out and the blade came down behind Buffy, piercing the slayer's back.

Buffy screamed and looked at the woman with pure shock.

Loret pushed her to the floor.

Buffy coughed and tried desperately to stand. Loret smiled and placed her heeled boot on Buffy's face.

"Riddle me this, riddle me that…what does a slayer become when she's lost a fight?"

Buffy closed her eyes and welcomed the blackness.

--

"I waited for you to come, precious." Glory smiled at Spike as he threw her on the floor.

He felt the air go thick as the Council members stood up from their chairs around the ceremonial table. "Stay away from the woman."

He turned to look at the man. A sly grin appeared on his face. "Senator Kemp—I should have known you were behind this."

The white haired Senator walked down the steps. "Glory is no longer Glory—she is a mortal, with no claim to what has happened here. If you want to take it up with someone, then your business is with the Council. Walk away from here and take the slayer and your players with you, and we will stay out of your…" he cleared his throat, "life."

Spike looked at the Council—he recognized most of them. He pointed his hand to a crying Vanessa. "Let'er go," he said calmly.

_I hear all these voices in my head and none of them can help me _

_I feel millions of people that pray for me to loose my cool and do some bad _

The Senator nodded to the guards and they instantly let the girl go.

Vanessa let out a strangled sob and threw herself into Spike's arms.

He lifted her up and hugged her tight, never taking his stern gaze from the Council members.

"If you've never heard anything I've said before, hear me now—I will come back for you. I want you to know that every time you lie down at night with your wife or your whore, I will be watching you. Every moment you walk alone on the street, I will be right behind you. Every time you take your children out to play, I will be there—and I swear by everything I hold dear that you will, one day, die by my hand. You will not go near my players, my slayers, Buffy or my child. You do anything I might think offensive, I will hunt you down. Know that by the end of the week, I will have learned everything about you, down to the size of your dick. The Council, ha!" he laughed, "Men place themselves on thrones like these," he motioned to the chairs arranged in the room. "Powers we can't even begin to explain put me on my throne. You could only dream about what real power is."

He turned from them and faced Glory. She smiled at him.

Spike didn't take his eyes off of her. "Pet, did she hurt you?" Spike asked Vanessa.

The little girl buried herself in his neck and nodded.

"Close your eyes tightly and don't open them until I tell you," he told her and she obeyed.

Glory's eyes grew wide—without further thought she felt the sharp pressure in her abdomen.

She looked down to her stomach. There was a hole clear through.

"Shit, I like this dress."

As she looked up her features melted into the visage that Spike remembered. Black hair replaced by badly tamed blonde curls.

"This time—stay dead," he whispered as she crumbled to the floor. He felt the Senator raise up in protest.

He turned to look at what was left of the Council. "Adiòs." He bowed and walked out of the room with his child in one hand and his Rubio in the other.

_Shut up...I don't care what they say... _

_The truth is that they haven't given me sh--I owe them nothin'—bring it all from my heart _

_I will not shut up—someone come and make me _

_What more do I give, I am the king and all shall bow _

--

She idly wondered why the blade didn't hurt. It should—she should feel it piercing her lung, its pressure, or maybe the blood oozing from a gaping wound, but for some reason she didn't. And she didn't feel the strain of the boot on her face either.

She opened her eyes and looked up. Just above her, she saw Lucy grabbing Loret's hand and giving her a well deserved punch in the nose.

"Riddle me this, riddle me that…what do you call a slut with nothing to shag?" Lucy flung her words right back at her.

"This is not your fight, Susy Homemaker," Loret spit back and chanced a glimpse at Buffy. Buffy could only whimper from her place on the floor.

For some reason she couldn't breathe—her legs felt cold. The thought that she was dying casually entered her mind.

_Sorry, Spike_, she though as she closed her heavy lids.

Lucy pulled out her weapon and pointed the 35mm at Loret. The redhead smiled.

"You don't have the balls," Loret snickered.

"No, but I do."

From the dark confines of the hall, Lucy watched as Spike emerged. He held his Rubio in front of him—the fire in his eyes told Lucy that he had seen Buffy. She stepped back as she loud boom crashed through the small space.

_I hear all these voices in my head and none of them can help me _

_I feel millions of people that pray for me to loose my cool and do some bad _

The impact sent Loret flying into the wall. She stood there stunned and looked up at her former lover. "I could've loved you," she whispered.

Spike brought down his weapon and stared at her indifferently. "Now we'll never know."

She smiled at his last words and gently closed her eyes and her limp body crumpled to the floor.

Spike ran to Buffy's side. She was lying flat on her back, blood oozing from beneath her. Spike rolled her gently to inspect her wound.  
He hardened his jaw as he realized she had punctured a lung.

He laid her back down, resting her weight against his own body. She was cold and deathly pale.

Her eyes slowly opened as she felt herself being cradled against a hard body.

"Spike?" she whispered, then coughed.

"C'mon baby—we're getting you out of here," he whispered and lifted her up despite her loud groan in protest.

"Take Vanessa," he told a teary Lucy. The woman nodded and lifted the little girl into her arms.

--

"You're just going to let them live?" the general stood beside the Senator.

Senator Kemp smiled. "This is not the time to fight. This was a time for them to know their enemy—it is not time yet."

"Then when? When will it be time?" he cried.

The Senator walked right over the dead body of the ex-goddess and adjusted his cuffs. "Soon."

--

The players watched as Spike and Lucy walked down the stairs and Mario nodded. He set the bomb.

"Clear," he said, and they all scurried out of the building, stepping over the dust of vampires and body parts of demons.

Dalton had brought the large van to the front of the building and they all piled into it.

He drove fiercely—trying to get to the their clinic as soon as possible.

Spike held a piece of cloth tightly against Buffy's bleeding wound.

"Hold on, baby—we are almost there," he whispered as she softly moaned.

"Spike…"

He looked down at her—tears were threatening to spill down his cheeks.

"I….I…can't feel my legs…and I am so cold," she whispered, hardly audible.

He kissed her forehead and held her tighter trying to block out the impending cold that was beginning to envelope her.

"Please stay with me…" he begged her.

He watched as her limp hand reached up to cup his face.

"Please…live, for me…for Vanessa…promise me you'll live. Fight another fight." Her breath was becoming ragged and shallow.

Spike's mind was racing—but his thoughts screeched to a halt the instant her felt her cough, and watched thick red blood trickle down her lips.

"Buffy…" he whispered.

Her sparkling green eyes met his and he could've sworn they were smiling at him.

"You made me…so happy."

Then she went limp. There, in his arms, she went limp.

He could feel bile and desperation rise in his throat. He shook her. She had to wake up.

He was breathing hard, even though he didn't need the air. Her eyes were still open—still looking at him—why didn't they sparkle anymore?

_Sparkle damnit_, he shouted to her within the confines of his mind.

Her small body felt so cold and vulnerable.

"Please," he begged.

He laid his head on her chest and for the first time in his existence as a vampire, he prayed.


	22. In Paths Not Taken

The Executioner --Part 19 of 100 yrs of Solitude (Races condemned to 100 yrs of solitude do not get a second opportunity on earth)

**In Paths Not Taken** --Part 21 of 100 yrs of Solitude (Races condemned to 100 yrs of solitude do not get a second opportunity on earth)

By: Isabelle

-Disclaimers: Title belongs entirely to Gabriel Garcia Marquez--just borrowing it for the sake of the story. Buffy, Spike, Whistler and all the memories belong to Joss and his crew. All other characters are entirely mine. Poem within the story is "But I Can't" by W.H. Auden.

-Special Thanks: Hilary, Ophelia and Allison who did this beta for me--thanks guys!

--

_Time will say nothing but I told you so _

_Time only knows the price we have to pay: _

_If I could tell you I would let you know. _

He could hear the voices around him but all he could hear, see, feel, was her. Those dead hazel eyes with a hint of emerald green that stared at the empty space.

Suddenly he was back.

One hundred years ago. Under that tower. Her body distorted on top of the debris.

Dead.

No, it couldn't be, this wasn't happening. His brain was running at a hundred miles an hour.

He couldn't breathe; he didn't need to -- but he felt himself dying one piece at a time. As if the dead cells in his body had finally decided to disintegrate. He felt like ashes and stone.

"Buffy?" he asked to the empty air.

No answer.

He looked back down at her.

A small trickle of blood ran down her chin.

He choked back a sob, but that did nothing. As he looked up he saw they had arrived in front of his building. The players' headquarters

Not one of them could meet his eyes.

"Zeta?" he barely asked.

The woman looked down, scratches marred her face, "I'm sorry."

He swallowed.

In the distance he could hear Vanessa start to cry, she wanted to know why Buffy was not awake -- Lucy took her out of the car and the rest of them followed.

They left him there. Alone.

So alone.

He felt the wind shift around him and without looking up knew who was there.

"'lo Whistler," he said in a melancholic voice.

The demon sat next to him and reached out his hand to smooth back Buffy's hair. Looking down, he gave Spike a comforting look.

"I told you from the beginning not to get attached." He softly reminded him.

So they were back to being pals now.

Spike nodded.

"You said you had forgotten how to love."

Spike nodded again, studying Buffy's face.

"What happened?" the demon asked in a low voice.

Spike swallowed convulsively and took a deep unneeded breath.

"Remember in '56, you asked me what I regret most in life."

Whistler nodded and smiled. "It was a good year, that one."

"We were drunk as fuck." Spike smiled remembering.

"That we were, kid."

"Remember what I told you?" Spike asked the man.

Whistler waited for him to answer his own question.

"I said that I would live one hundred years just to see her one more time. That I would die a happy man, just to hold her one more time, just to smell her, to look into her eyes and get lost in them…but you know what?" Tears started to mar his face. "'s not enough. For a smile, a kiss, a hug…only makes you want more. Makes you want to have her for eternity. And…"

A thick sob erupted over him.

"…I…can't live…" Sob. "Without her…I did once…I can't…" Sob. "I love her…always have…even when I knew she wasn't mine. But now…now that I tasted her love…" Sob. "I can't. I don't have it in me ol' man."

Whistler let him cry for a while as the vampire held on to the limp body, rocking it back and forth.

Crying, he didn't hear the soft Latin chant twinkling in the air around him.

When he raised his head he was no longer in the van, no longer in Bogotá. No longer on earth.

Buffy was gone from his arms, and wildly he looked around, frantic for her.

"Welcome, lower being."

The voice was booming.

He sighed; he really didn't have time for this.

He watched the two twins appear before him. "Hansel. Gretel." He greeted.

The female narrowed her eyes.

"William, you should show respect." she scolded.

Spike threw his arms back and laughed. A loud, sickening laugh that rang throughout the temple.

"Well forgive me if I don't give a bleedin' fuck!" He spat out.

They watched as he started to pace the room.

"I mean explain somethin' to me - cause with this pathetic human brain of mine and the whole 'lower being' thing I obviously can't understand." He made a motion signaling his head. "I mean, fifty years. Fifty bleedin' years and this is my reward?" he cried out. The oracles watched him, silent.

"I have gone out night after night, doing your bidding and when I ask for a sliver of happiness all you can do is turn and look the other way! Ignore me and go back to being considered the lower being with the fate of the world on his shoulders." He spat out. "Well…news flash, goldies! I quit! I bleeding quit!" He kicked a marble column. "Now you have no warrior, no pacificador, no soddin' fool to do your dirty work. Good luck finding a vampire that gives a fuck!"

Breathing hard he finished his rant and looked back to the oracles. The female's face was decorated with a compassionate smile that almost took the air out of him. He'd never seen her smile.

"You're a good man, lower being," her voice echoed throughout the room, surrounding him.

The brother came closer.

"We have watched you fight the war between the darkness and the light. You have served your duty well." He told Spike.

Spike snorted. "Well a whole lot of shit load that made."

Silence

The room shook as they reprimanded him.

He glared at them. He hated those mental whips .

"As a reward for your faithful service we will give back that which you love. But be warned. This will be her last chance. The next time she dies is final. Not even the powers will help you then."

Both spoke at the same time.

Spike stood there confused. "What?"

"The slayer. She will be returned to you," the sister explained.

Spike wondered if he could fall into dust from happiness. He felt like hugging them, like fucking, like singing, like getting drunk all at the same time.

An unexplainable smile appeared on his face.

"Thank you." He told them sincerely. "But I have one request."

The twins stopped and looked at him.

"You say that the next time will be her final time." The male nodded. "Then," he looked down to his feet. "Take me with her when it happens."

Both of them stared at him in shock.

"Please." he begged. "If it's tomorrow, in a year or fifty years from now…all I ask is that I don't live without her."

The next moments felt like years as the oracles considered his request.

Finally the female nodded. "Then our payment is fulfilled."

The next thing he knew he was hunched over Buffy's body back in the van.

He looked up and found Whistler had disappeared, and light was spilling out on the horizon. He knew he must have been 'out' for hours.

He desperately looked down at Buffy's body.

"C'mon, baby," he whispered to her.

She didn't look as pale, and color was slowly returning to her cheeks.

"Buffy?" He said, grabbing her shoulders. "Can you hear me?"

He turned her over and saw that her wound was completely gone. He could have leapt for joy.

His nerves were killing him. He shook her hard. "Rise and shine, luv!"

She moaned but her head rolled limp to the side. Ok--that was it, Spike had lost his patience.

He pulled his hand back and focused on giving her a good morning slap, but a strong small hand grabbed his before it hit.

"Don't you dare, bleachboy."

He looked down and there she was, smiling and alive, looking at him with real blood flowing through her veins.

"Buffy," he let out a loud breath of relief and hugged her small body against him.

"I thought I lost you," he muffled into her hair.

Buffy smiled at him. "You did."

He pulled back and stared at her. "Don't you scare the death out of me ever again!"

She simply pulled him down for a kiss.

"Tell me, does this mean I'm immortal or something?" she asked him when he pulled back. Her fingers traced little patterns in the nape of his neck.

He swallowed and avoided her eyes.

She saw his uncertainty. "Spike?"

He continued avoiding her eyes.

"What did you do?" she sat up and looked at him.

She was breathing hard and he smelled the worry on her.

"Nothing, pet."

"Look at me," she told him.

He lifted his gaze, and the pain was evident in his eyes.

"You made a deal, didn't you?" she more stated than asked.

He looked back down at his hands. "I needed you back."

Buffy stared at the bowed head and reached out and touched his arm.

"What did you give up?" she was afraid to hear the answer.

"Nothing," he told her truthfully.

"Then what is it, what's bothering you--I can feel it Spike, please don't lie to me." She begged him.

"I…" he wiped his face of the dry tears that he had cried over her fallen body. "They told me it was the last time. And pet, I am no Angel. I don't want to go by wandering 'round in pain--did the 'you dead, me alive' thing already, and let me say I lost some of my sex appeal in the process. It wasn't pretty."

Buffy watched him ramble; if she weren't so worried about what he had given up she would have been amused.

"Spike…" she warned.

"So I…" he started and looked at her. "I asked them for a favor."

Her eyes went wide. "Spike, what type of a favor?"

He let out a loud sigh. "I asked them that next time they take you, you know when it's your final time to

go--Iaskedthemtotakemewithyou." He finished quickly.

Buffy shook her head, trying to make sense of his jumbled words. "What? Speak slowly and clear."

She could've sworn that if they had been standing up he would be pacing.

"I asked them to take me with you." He told her and then looked outside. "And they agreed."

Buffy could only sit there absorbing the information as he avoided her gaze and studied the awakening town outside of the van.

"No," she finally said, her voice sounded pained and hurt.

He turned to look at her.

"Pet, I had to…" he was choking up himself.

"No! Take it back, Spike!" she pleaded with him. "Please don't do this!"

She took his face in her hands, her green eyes searching him out. "Why, why did you do it? I would've wanted you to live!" she cried.

He grabbed her in a fierce hug and she responded, burying her head in his shoulder.

Before they knew it they were both crying.

"I can't. I couldn't," he told her as she shook with grief.

Buffy pulled back and touched his face, leaning her head to one side so she could study him. "I love you so much," she whispered.

He closed his eyes and leaned in to her, the car making it hard to hold each other properly.

"I'll stay with you…until we're both called. Until you live no more--the moment you leave I leave."

Tears ran down her face again. She shook her head.

"Spike, please…"

"I want to," he told her sternly. "Please, don't make me live without you."

She bit her bottom lip and finally nodded.

"So how long will that be?" she asked him.

He shrugged. "Who knows? But when it's time--it'll be time. Guess we'll have to make the best of it."

They kissed again, melting into the newfound addiction they had found in each other's arms.

When they finally pulled back, Spike leaned his forehead against hers. "We should go, Vanessa thinks you're dead."

Buffy pulled back. "Oh my god, I forgot!" she cried. "Did you kill Glory? And what about Loret?"

He smiled at her questions. "Both dead birds."

"And the Black Council?" she asked him.

Spike's features hardened. "We still have them on our backs, there were too many of them. Don't worry--we live to fight another day."

Buffy smiled at him. "C'mon, I think our baby is traumatized after this roller coaster ride."

_If we should weep when clown put on their show, _

_If we should stumble when musicians play, _

_Time will say nothing but I told you so. _

--

"Something is wrong." The Senator paced the dark room. "How can she be alive--you said today she'd die!"

The witch looked at him impassively. "Apparently they have larger forces working for them."

"This can't be--this complicates things to the power of ten!"

"There is nothing we can do!" she told him. "Obviously, she is not meant to die."

"Don't tell me now you suddenly believe in fate!" he looked at her horrified.

"I believe in anything I can't see and all that I don't understand." She replied.

"They killed my god, they killed my warrior, took the girl and now the council is running scared, not to mention I lost a very valuable piece of property!"

The witch stood up and collected her things.

"Where are you going?" she continued to walk away. "You can't leave!" No response as she shut the door behind her. He was alone in the room. Blank walls and empty chairs mocked his solitude.

"I am a Senator!"

His voice echoed mockingly around him.

--

_There are no fortunes to be told, although _

_Because I love you more than I can say, _

_If I could tell you I would let you know. _

She watched as she fell asleep, her small body curled up with a new pig that they decided to call Son of Mr. Gordo.

She let out a small shiver in her sleep and Buffy knew she was dreaming. She rubbed her small back in gently circles.

The girl woke startled but Buffy was ready, waiting for her.

"I was scared," she told the slayer.

Buffy gathered her in her arms. "Told you I'd be right here when

She rocked her back and forth.

"Where's is daddy?" she asked.

"He went to get food." Buffy explained.

Vanessa rubbed her small fist over her eyes.

"Are the bad men going to come again?"

Buffy kissed Vanessa's forehead as she leaned her head against her chest. "Nope—no one will ever take you away again."

"Can I sleep with you tonight?" the little girl asked.

Buffy smiled. Spike would just love that.

"Sure, c'mon—we can wait for daddy."

Vanessa followed her out of the room, clutching her pig to her chest as little bare feet padded lightly on the hardwood floors.

--

_The winds must come from somewhere when they blow,_

_There must be reasons why the leaves decay;_

_Time will say nothing but I told you so._

Spike tried to balance the two bags of food with the six pack on his other hand whilst trying to open the door.

"Bloody 'ell," he cursed as he almost lost his balance. Thoughts of spending the night with Buffy filled his mind. He had tried to hurry home but the fact that nothing was opened at that time of night made it impossible.

He finally made his way to the bedroom, anticipation running through his veins.

As he swung the door open the scene before him both delighted and disappointed him.

Buffy, dressed just like Vanessa with a large with shirt that reached to her knees, sat on the bed painting her toe nails green, while the little girl giggled like crazy.

They both looked up when he came in.

Vanessa let out a delightful cry as she jumped from the bed and left traces of her green nail polish all over his Lauren sheets.

She grabbed hold of his leg as he tried to balance the food and the beer.

"And what are you doing up?" he tried to look down at her through the brown bags.

"Mommy said I could sleep with you!" she smiled happily at him.

Spike raised a brow and looked up to his love. "Did she now?"

Buffy rose from the bed and mouthed to him. 'She was scared.'

--

"Hello?"

"Mr. Berrios?" the voice on the telephone asked.

"Who is this?"

"Listen carefully, be at the underground dome in twenty minutes, we have a meeting."

Trembling hands wiped his forehead. "I am through with the council."

"Twenty minutes. Be there or be dead."

Dead line.

He replaced the phone in its cradle and ran to the bathroom. Splashing water on his face he looked at his reflection in the mirror.

He used to be a handsome man. Tall and muscular, with a sharp jaw and larde forehead. He used to have broad shoulders that gave him an air of importance; he used to have bright black eyes that sparkled with life.

But now, now he was withered away in to nothing. Following orders from people he didn't trust and placing his life on the line for a cause he no longer believed in. Running away would only allow him to survive for a few more weeks...maybe months before they found him and shot him down like a rabid dog.

No, this was not the way it was meant to be. He was the descendent of a proud line of people and he was not going to go out a coward.

He reached for the picture in the frame by the sink. The picture he had everywhere to remind him of who he was.

His great-great-grandfather Lindsay McDonald. Smiling, in his late fifties before his "untimely" death. Killed by female vampire who remained unidentified.

He looked at the picture for sometime. And he made his decision.

Reaching on the inside of his coat he grasp the metal barrel.

He made sure it was loaded and he cocked it.

Bringing it to his mouth he closed his eyes and said his last goodbyes.

--

_Perhaps the roses really want to grow,_

_The vision seriously intends to stay;_

_If I could tell you I would let you know._

She saw his eyes pop open and he glared at her from across the bed.

"What?" she whispered innocently.

"Oh, Daddy wouldn't mind," he mimicked her voice.

She smiled at him. "Do you?"

The little person between them stirred and they froze--they had tried for three hours to get her to sleep.

He shrugged and closed his eyes.

When he opened them again she was staring at Vanessa, gently rubbing her back and bending in for a small peck.

"I have to go," he told her.

She looked up at him, and her features went back from a loving mother to a business-like Slayer.

"Why?" She asked him.

He looked down and curled his fingers around the little girl's hair, it reminded him so much of that time so long ago when he used to watch over Dawn when she fell asleep with him.

"This is not finished," he said.

She reached out and grabbed his hand.

"Let it go," she said.

Spike shook his head—if this didn't end today it would never end.

It would multiply exponentially until they could no longer control it.

"I have to, luv — this is my job."

"Then I'm coming with you," she started to get up.

"You want to leave her alone again?" he questioned her.

Buffy looked up at him and then down at the little girl. Last time they had left her for not even an hour and she had almost died.

"I'll take Mario, and Dalton—it'll be a clean sweep." He reassured her.

She cocked her head to the side and studied him. Her hand came up to brush back the curly white-blond hair from his forehead.

He took her hand in his and kissed the inside of her palm.

"Come back," she told him, her voice low in the quiet, cold room.

He gave her one of his signature smiles…actually more like a cocky grin that made you want to smack off of his face.

"Always."

She watched him kiss Vanessa's head then roll out of the large bed without making any noise. Walking round to the other side he kneeled next to her. She shifted so that she could look at him. Gently their lips met and lingered together without opening their mouths to deepen the kiss. His relishing in the feel of each other's skin and the simple intimacy of the moment.

"I'll be back," he told her and stood up, grabbing his shirt and coat on the way out.

Buffy watched until the door closed behind him and she cuddled her body to Vanessa's, ensuring no harm would come to her.

--

"Weapons."

"Check," Mario answered him.

"Map."

"Check," Dalton put in.

"C-4."

"Check," Lucy said, placing the paste carefully inside of the bag.

"Let's head out." Spike hefted the bag over his shoulder and started walking to the door.

"Troll, protection spell," Spike reminded the man.

He nodded and started chanting.

Lucy sat and placed her earphones on. Typing away on her laptop.

"Let's rock this joint," she told them over the secure line.

_Suppose the lions all get up and go,_

_And all the brooks and soldiers run away;_

_Will Time say nothing but I told you so?_

_If I could tell you I would let you know._

--

Buffy watched Spike and the two other men walk out of the building from her dark window. She stared at his blond head until he disappeared into the van and drove off.

She sighed and said a little prayer.

Wrapping her arms around herself she stared out into a day that was cloaked in darkness. She really couldn't wait until it was day again. In the short hours of daylight things seemed to be 'normal'. If you would have asked Buffy Summers five years ago...actually make that one hundred and five years ago she would have told you she wanted to get married and have kids and for men to stop pestering her with "In every generation..." speeches.

She looked back at the corner were the van had disappeared from view and she hoping with all her heart that he'd come back.

Please come back.

She sighed and turned to get in bed with her baby when she felt it.

She froze on her spot and let her slayer senses take over.

She saw her literally materialize from the shadows.

Dressed in the same way she had last seen her, black leather suit, bright red hair in a ponytail.

Knife at hand.

"You didn't think this was over...did you?" Loret asked smiling.

The slayer returned her smile.

"Actually, I was hopping you were still alive." she stood in attack position. "Know what it feels like to be dead?"

"No, but I'm sure you do."


	23. October Dawn

The Executioner --Part 19 of 100 yrs of Solitude (Races condemned to 100 yrs of solitude do not get a second opportunity on earth)

October Dawn

-Disclaimers: Title belongs entirely to Gabriel Garcia Marquez--just borrowing it for the sake of the story. Buffy, Spike, Whistler and all the memories belong to Joss and his crew. All other characters are entirely mine.

--

The men walked confidently down the hall, towards a meeting that could not be avoided.

Walking down white halls reminiscent of hospitals that were covered with 15th century paintings of Machiavellian men who stood proudly above the people from their hegemonic positions.

There was a soft tapping of Gucci shoes on white marble floors that shone and reflected like mirrors. Some who had reflections, some who didn't.

Walking past guards, past pots of fake plants that smelled of glue, past dimmed lights that whispered terror.

Six of them.

The head of a council so feared — so discreet only a small percentage of the world population knew that they existed. On each of their wrists was tattooed the emblem. An emblem of the head of a wolf. Howling into the night, causing terror amongst the creatures of the night.

They arrived at an oak door that unusually stood unguarded by the marines who usually stood watch.

They entered anyway, filling the cold office furnished in black. An office dominated by the large round table that stood in the center.

As they entered, their gaze centered on the man sitting at the head of the long table.

They stood there watching him.

The man smiled and lit a cigarette. Two more men stood on either side of him holding 10 gauge shot guns.

"'ello, boys," the man said. He brought down his lighter and placed it on top of the oak table, making a clattering sound.

The men with the emblem inside of their wrist said nothing as they looked on at him.

"Fancy a party?" he asked them.

--

One moment she was sitting down reading over the transcripts, the next she fell down on her knees — clutching her head with white-knuckled fingers.

"What is it?" Lucy asked Zeta as she kneeled in front of her.

"Loret...upstairs...Buffy." She managed to muster as she gasped for air.

"Loret's dead." Lucy reminded her.

"Well she's alive and kicking...and pissed off."

Lucy ran from the room with Troll on her heels.

--

"How many times do we have to kill you?" Loret asked as she stepped forward from the shadows.

Buffy backed up, scanning the room for weapons and keeping an eye on a small sleeping form of Vanessa.

"This time he's not here to save you — this time you die, and you won't come back." Loret kept approaching.

Buffy cocked her head to the side and eyed her evenly.

"Look who's talking about walking bones." No weapons.

Mano a mano.

Loret chuckled, "A little trick of the devil, you know." She looked over to the sleeping girl. "Hmm, mommy dearest trying to protect her little pigeon?"

Buffy stepped between Loret and the bed.

"This is between you and me. Leave her out of this."

Loret clicked her tongue loudly. "But you know this story...she's made out of you. She's you and Spike, the little seed that continues life...a little pebble in my shoe."

Buffy grabbed on to the post of the bed; maybe she could break the wood apart.

"What do you want with us? What did I do to hurt you so badly?" Buffy inquired, trying to keep her hand movements to the minimum.

Loret smiled at her. "Are you always this self-centered, Slayer?" Buffy could now see the long piece of wood in Loret's hand. "You think it all revolves around you, the mirror in the center of a carousel?"

"You're obviously demented, let's get over the chit chat — I don't talk to crazy people."

/SNAP/

The thin post snapped off in the slayer's hand. Now they were even. Wood against wood.

"Inventive. I like that." Loret crouched in fighting position. "Tonight you die your last death and your offspring with you."

"Overconfidence is a debility." Buffy remarked and mirrored her position.

"That it is," she smiled in return and blocked the hit that Buffy threw.

"Now we end this."

--

"Spike...listen to me, you don't want to do this." The senator cried as they were tying him up and gagging him in the small office.

Spike stood in front of them and shoved a crumpled handkerchief in his mouth.

"Yeah, I do," he said and watched as Mario set up the explosives.

Satisfied with the way everything was going he turned to address the council that was now at his mercy. "Let this be a lesson you all, gentlemen."

They looked back at him with anger and fear.

"You mess with me, I blow up your business. You mess with my family, my players, or friends and you die. Simple rules. Simple rules that you broke. I may be a civilized man, but I am a dangerous man none the less. I was not chosen 'cause I was saintly. I am not on a mission of redemption, because for all they care I can fuck up a million and one times. Therefore, I play by my own rules. Make my own games, determine the winners."

Mario stood up and started the clock on the bomb.

"And the verdict is, mates." He raised up his thumb, in Roman style. Looking over them, he smiled and flipped his thumb down.

A sick clicking of the timer was heard. Clayton patted one of the senators on his bald head and walked out with Mario following him.

"Now, be good boys." Spike turned and left the room, locking the bolt.

--

The first loud bang woke her up — causing her to bolt up in bed. And she saw, at the foot of the bed, her mom and that nasty lady fighting in the dark.

"Mommy!" She cried out, clutching the pig to her chest.

Buffy hit Loret hard on the face and made her stumble down to the carpeted floor.

"Go down stairs and find Aunt Lucy, baby. Run!"

Vanessa literally jumped off the bed and ran as fast as her little legs could carry her to the door.

She grasped the handle and tried to ignore when she heard Buffy grunt in pain as the wood crushed her ribs.

It was locked.

She tried with all her might but it was locked. She felt tears dripping form her face. "It's locked!"

She said before she turned around, a hard hand grabbed her arms and unceremoniously tossed her on top of the bed. She screamed again.

Buffy pulled herself to her feet, bellowing in rage when she saw the way Loret had thrown Vanessa. She tackled the woman from the back and sent them both sprawling into the floor.

--

Lucy ran up the stairs as fast as she could, she could feel her heart thumping in her chest — Spike had just gotten Buffy back, when the hell were they going to get a break?

They reached the apartment door and she yanked open but it was locked.

She grunted as she threw herself against the door, becoming more desperate as she heard Vanessa's screams form the inside.

"Let me," the perpetually calm Troll said as he closed his eyes and chanted.

"Hurry," she said, her gun cocked and ready for action.

"Magic...black magic, very potent." He turned and looked at her. "I need Zeta. We must concentrate, perhaps we can brake the barrier."

Lucy sighed in frustration. She grabbed her mike. "Zeta, up here — NOW!"

She tucked her gun in her belt.

"She'll be here in a few," she turned to leave.

"Where are you going?" he asked her confused.

She looked to the ceiling. "The roof." She said and ran off.

--

Spike watched from the rear-view mirror as the building blew up. Thousands of orange and yellow flickers in the night.

He sighed in relief. It was over.

He ran his hand over his tired features and sagged in the seat.

All he wanted was to get a new slayer, take Buffy and Vanessa back home to Spain and stay as far away from this place as possible.

This place had turned out to be a mess. He had hardly had time to think about mourning Sammy.

The though brought a sharp pain to his heart. He looked out into the street.

"After tonight, you guys are welcomed to go home and take a nice deserved vacation," he told his players.

Dalton chuckled and he couldn't help but to join in on the strange laugh. The relief of it being over washed over him.

"Yuh should come over, got m'self a nice lil' place at da' countryside--might be nice for the rascal."

Spike looked over at him. "I think Buffy would like to visit the states very much. We might even drop a line over ol' Sunnyhell."

"I though there was nothing left of that place," Mario commented.

"There isn't, but there's a little monument I think she might like to see," Spike took out his illegal cigarettes and lit one up. "Actually that's a very good idea."

--

Buffy kicked Loret's legs from under her and backhanded her, sending her crashing against the wall full of frames. She slid down to the floor and she took the opportunity to run to Vanessa who was crying quietly on the bed corner.

"C'mon, baby," she held out her arms and the little girl threw herself on them, clutching on to her neck.

The slayer ran to the door and tried to pry it open.

Locked.

Seriously locked.

She tried with all her slayer strength but not even a bulge.

Something smelled strange.

A low laugh made her turn to look at the redhead.

"Black magic. There's no way out. Only one of us will walk out of this room alive." She wiped the blood form her lip.

Buffy placed a reluctant Vanessa down. "Hide under the bed." She whispered and the little girl ran and slid herself under the canopy bed.

Buffy took a deep breath. " Very well then."

--

Lucy ran up the fire escape to the roof.

She literally slid home as she ran to the edge of the building. Taking out a heavy rope form her utility belt she did a boy scout-style knot and tied it to the nearby roof pipe.

She always hated this damn thing Spike made them carry around but now she could kiss the vampire for his paranoid behaviour.

--

Zeta got there and Troll was already chanting — he was deep in thought as he focused all of his mental energies on the doorframe. Zeta immediately felt it. This was powerful dark magic and she would need all of her mental strength to do this. She recognized the fragment the old man was saying, taking his hand she started chanting with him.

--

Mario pulled the van in front of the building and began to help Dalton and Spike dismount all of the equipment from the car.

"Good day at the office, eh, boys?" Spike asked, smiling — finally he got to spend an entire night with Buffy. The threat was over. Everything was good.

That is until he heard the scuffling sound coming from the roof.

All three of them heard it and they went instantly into alert.

"What was that?" Spike asked Mario. The man took out his binoculars that it seemed to Spike he almost slept with them.

"Lucy — she's on the roof." He said, narrowing his eyes.

"LUCY!" Spike screamed.

Fifteen stories above the Asian woman looked down. A wave of relief passed through her.

"Loret! She's in Buffy's bedroom and we can't get in!" She screamed.

Spike felt as if he had been dropped in holy water. He dropped all of his weapons and grabbed the large axe that Dalton was holding.

With vampiric speed he grabbed the bottom of the fire escape and started rushing up the building.

"Get inside," he screamed to the men below.

--

Buffy grabbed a fist full of Loret's hair and yanked her head back, then slammed her fist on her face.

She heard the sick sound of breaking cartilage as blood spluttered from the red-head's nose.

"Bitch!" The woman screamed.

"Damn, that's the description I was going to use for you," Buffy said staggering as she landed another blow to her face.

They were both breathing hard, both exhausted, both wanting it to end, both too stubborn to call it quits.

Loret fell on the ground and immediately flipped herself to stand.

"I can feel you getting tired, slayer — won't you just give up and let me kill you?"

Buffy slammed the back of her leg with her foot.

"I don't fancy losing," She almost smiled at her Spike-like use of words.

Loret laughed and reached behind her, a long knife came out. "This is the same one I used last time."

Buffy eyed the knife and prepared herself for the coming attack.

"And this time — Lucy Lui ain't here to help you," she smiled.

"This time is won't be necessary," she said and tackled her to the ground.

--

Mario and Clayton came in to find Zeta and Troll about to pass out from the exhaustion of the chanting.

Dalton sat next to Zeta and too her hand, closing his eyes in concentration.

He began to feed them his energies.

Mario stared at them. He had been hired for his muscled not for his yoga abilities. His idea of a good workout was a couple of hours in the gym not mantra.

With resentment he sat next to Troll and cleared his mind. The least he could do was support them.

--

Spike reached the roof faster than he had anticipated.

"What happened?" He asked Lucy who was untying the rope from her waist so Spike could go down.

"I have no idea. All we know is that the room is surrounded by black magic. The whole apartment actually."

Spike nodded and took the rope from her hand, tying it around his waist he walked to the edge of the building. With his back to the world and facing her he winked and smiled as he dropped down like a rock climber.

"Show off," she muttered under breath as he disappeared.

--

Loret grabbed the vase that was on the night stand and crashed it against Buffy's head. The slayer fell to a heap on the floor, she tried to stand but Loret grabbed her legs on started dragging her towards the large window the slayer was originally looking through.

Vanessa whimpered as she saw Buffy being dragged, her limp legs underneath her.

Loret grabbed Buffy's throat and started squeezing.

Face to face now Buffy could see though her haze the sinister-mad face of the woman.

"Die, slayer, die," she said smiling.

Buffy wheezed and tried to breathe.

"It all comes down to this, darling, we all die at the end."

Buffy could feel her eyes rolling back to her head as she tried to stay conscious.

--

As Spike neared the window were he could hear a crashing vase, he felt as if he had been cut by the vase.

He hissed and touched his forehead seeing no blood.

_What the hell_? He was confused.

Then he felt himself being choked.

He gasped for air, all the while telling himself he couldn't breath. His arms gave out as he felt his trachea shrink.

His body slammed against the building as he tried prying whatever it was from his neck.

--

All four of them were trembling as the power grew so intense that sweat was pouring form them.

Troll having all the weight on his as he fourth the spiritual battle. He kept chanting in Latin, never losing the pace, never faltering. The power of the other three keeping him adrift as he felt the invisible wall breaking down.

--

Buffy could've sworn she died again. But it was one thought, one thought that did her in.

Little Vanessa all alone. If she died, Spike died. She would be left all alone.

Like Dawn had been.

But this time there was no Scoobies, or Spike or Giles to take care of her little girl.

She could see Dawn's face.

"Buffy." she said.

"Dawnie?"

Her mind was blur.

"You have it in you, Buffy."

"Wake up."

"Wake up"

Buffy shook her thought and opened her eyes.

She had no air but she didn't need any.

She grabbed Loret's hands in hers and pried them from her, crushing the slender bones of her pale hands.

The woman screamed as he bones were ground to nothing.

The slayer grabbed her by the lapels of her shirt and lifted her up.

Loret looked down at Buffy in awe.

"Don't mess with this slayer." She said.

With the strength that came form places she didn't know she pushed the woman.

Pushed her though the glass window.

Pushed her until she fell through.

Loret screamed as she fell back, -crashing the window into a million pieces and just...floating.

Buffy watched as the woman flapped her arms and fell.

Down fifteen stories, down to the cement floor.

The slayer walked to the window and looked down at the body splattered on the floor.

"And this time stay out."

--

The barrier fell so suddenly that all four of them collapsed forward in a heap.

Mario was the first to recover; he crawled to the door.

Reaching to the handle, the door opened as if it had never been locked.

"Well I'll be damned."

--

Buffy heard the gasping sound from outside the window.

She tentatively looked out to find Spike wheezing, hanging limply on the side of the window.

"Spike!"

She cried out and reached out for him.

"Give me your hand!" she cried out to him.

His eyes were rolled back and he looked dead...not that he wasn't.

"Wake up, you annoying vampire," she went out and stood on the frame, reaching her hand to him.

He motioned to move but his hand went down again to his side.

"Spike, please. I really don't want to wait for all of your bones to heal after you fall fifteen stories!" She reached out.

He opened his eyes and tried to focus on her.

She smiled.

"C'mon, baby, give me your hand, I'll pull you in."

He coughed, but reached out limply to her.

"A little further," she said reassuringly.

He coughed again and the rope gave out, sliding him down further.

She screamed.

"Please, Spike!"

She climbed out a little bit more.

"You can do it, Spike — where's that strong vampire I know?" she was breathing hard, her night-gown torn and flapping in the high wind. Her hair danced around her as her body strained, trying to reach his limp hand.

He looked at her again. His head wobbled to the side.

"Your hand--give me your hand!" She screamed at him.

He closed his eyes again.

Ok. Time to get nasty.

"If you don't wake up and give me your hand I swear to god I'll kick your ass from here to Sunnydale!"

That did it.

He smelled his old slayer.

Prying his eyes open he locked eyes with her. The strength in her eyes jolting him to reality.

Realizing he was just about to fall from his own building he reached out to her.

She almost cried out in relief.

They joined hands in a powerful grasp. "I got you," she said as she pulled him up.

He helped her by pulling himself up.

She pulled him through the window and they both tumbled to the floor in a heap.

Both panting, though only one needed to breathe.

"I got you," she whispered again as she wrapped her arms around him.

The door burst open as the entire group that was chanting outside nearly fell in.

"Buffy!" Zeta cried out before she saw the scene in the room.

Spike rolled off his love and stared at the ceiling. A ceiling that was dimly lit by the faint rays of a rare October dawn.

"What the fuck was that?"

Buffy panted and shock her head.

"Don't know-. I thought you killed her." She looked at him.

There were nasty purple bruises forming on his neck and blood had begun to drip from his forehead. Just like her.

"What happened to you?" She asked him.

"I got beat up by air." He said, looking over at her. Her neck was also bruised, and blood was dripping from her forehead.

"You two ok?" Mario said, lifting Buffy up. Lucy had rushed into the room and was helping Dalton get Spike on top of the bed.

"Don't people stay dead?" Spike mumbled.

"Agreed," Lucy said. "Where's Vanessa?" she asked looking around in the room.

The players went quiet as they looked around the empty room for the little girl.

Buffy kneeled. "She's under the bed." She squatted down to look for her. "Honey—it's ok, you can come out now. The bad lady's gone."

Spike kneeled down with her. "C'mon, pigeon. Dad's 'ere, nothing's gonna hurt you, luv."

The little girl carefully slid herself out and wrapped her arms around Spike.

Everyone sighed in relief. "Another day on the job," Mario commented, lighting his own cigarette.

--

"Hoy nos reuinimos en memoria. Memoria por aquellos que tocaron nuestras vida de una manera especial. Aquellos que con su humildad de corazon nos enseñaron que en la vida se puede tener felicidad..." (We are gathered here today in remembrance. Remembering those that have touched our lives in a special way. Those that with humble hearts taught us that still in life there can be happiness…)

Padre Berrio's words drowned in the mists of his thought as he watched the seven coffins before him. They were all white. White was a good color.

Buffy's hand around his felt warm—a warmth he hadn't felt in a long time.

He swallowed at the thickness in his throat. Buffy pulled his hand to her lips and kissed it gently—in a reassuring way. He squeezed hers back in thanks.

He watched as the father gave the final blessing.

Before the torchers came with the fire a light breeze passed through the crown that had gathered on top of la Montaña Ilsa.

It was the type of breeze that told you rain was coming. A warning type of a breeze, yet a gentle one.

He looked down at Vanessa who clung to his leg. He bent down and picked her up.

"Are Mommy and Daddy in heaven?" She asked him.

He nodded and nuzzled her braided hair.

"And my brothers and sister?" She asked.

"Yes," Buffy said as she watched the coffins light up.

And on top of the mountain all dressed in black they watched them burn. The flames reached high above the sky into that place we would most like to see. That place that perhaps lies maybe in our deepest thought. That place is a promise.

They watched in until it turned to ashes and they were the only ones left.

With Vanessa in his arms and taking Buffy's hand he walked away, they --

home.

--

_October 25, 2104 _

_Dear Diary, _

_I have never stopped and looked at the sea. The way it talks, so alive and so full of tales. The waves are a terror to those who do not respect it, but to me, here high above the sky, it looks peaceful. _

_If you would've asked me when I was fifteen what I wanted out of life I would have told you I wanted a normal life. _

_Just get to married, have kids — the whole white picket fence deal. _

_I look in front of me. Spike is asleep, I know he must be exhausted. Vanessa, our daughter, fast asleep on top of him, her head resting on his shoulder, drool dripping on his polo shirt. _

_He'll be ticked when he wakes up. _

_I know now that this as normal as it will get. This moment is my life. A daughter I never thought I'd have, a man I never thought would stay. _

_And I love them both. _

_It's weird how life turns out, a wise man once told me that what I have might not be pretty but it was real. _

_Well, baby, this is as real as it gets, and as beautiful as it will be. And I love it. _

_I've loved every moment of it and I will not change a thing. _

_I miss my family, my mom, Dawn, Giles, the gang. Sometimes I miss them so much it hurts. But I cannot live my life wondering and dreaming of past times. They lived their lives and so must I. This is my life now, this is my family. _

_I thought I knew plenty before I died. Now I know I was wrong. _

_I have learned so much in the months that I've been back it frightens me at times. But I have Spike and everything will be OK. _

_He stirs and looks at me. _

_I look at him. _

_He's got that look in his eyes. The moment between sleep and waking._

_He smiles. _

_The world stands still for that one moment. _

_He smiled. _

_I knew I loved him before, but I had never stopped to think why I loved him. _

_I knew he was loyal to my family and to the 'cause'. But why does Buffy Summers love him? _

_The answer is there in his smile. _

_That tiny speck of satin smooth skin that raises itself a mere half inch and charms me all over again. _

_He loves me. _

_That's my reason. _

_When they ask me — and I know they will, why do I love him? _

_I will say I love him because he loved me first. _

_Because he didn't let go, he didn't turn away frightened by my somewhat stubborn nature. _

_Because he loved me. _

_I look at him again and smile back. _

_He knows. He understands, never will I find a man that understands me better, I know this. Why do you think I haven't killed him — aside from the fact that he melts me inside. _

_So I say what I have to say. _

_Thank you. Thank you Spike, for loving me. _

_I know someday I'll die, I know he'll die with me, but if there's one thing I am sure of is that life is not about regretting what happened yesterday and what you feel you failed to do. Life is about taking those mistakes, wrapping them in Christmas tissue paper and looking forward to your New Year's resolution. _

_I find myself at times wondering if there's more to life than this. But looking back at those I love, at those people around me that support me no matter what…I know that it's enough. _

_Life ain't that bad after all. _

_Buffy Summers _


	24. Full of Life Now

The Executioner --Part 19 of 100 yrs of Solitude (Races condemned to 100 yrs of solitude do not get a second opportunity on earth)

**Full of Life Now**

-Disclaimers: Title belongs entirely to Gabriel Garcia Marquez--just borrowing it for the sake of the story. Buffy, Spike, Whistler and all the memories belong to Joss and his crew. All other characters are entirely mine.

-Special Thanks: To the following peoplee who have helped me with the beta at one time or another: Trish, Wendy, Nmissi, Jenn, Tarcy, Marcee and Hilary. I want to thank all of your wonderful reviews and feedback that are always supportive! Special thanks to Pat and Lynn who always get my spirits up when I feel the chapter was "alright". Thank you to all the wonderful people at One Good Day--you guys are wonderful! Tracy--for all the chats we've shared and for her undying to devotion to anything I write (Love you, pet!), for my family for listening to me rant for hours at end about the show and what I was planning to do. To SMG and JM for their amazing talent that inspired me to write this story, to Joss for his undying creativity and to all the Spike/Buffy shipper-redeptionistas that support the theory that anyone can be better is they're given a chance.

--

On the year of our Lord, 2121, the Great War broke out. Killing millions of people and making the world-dominating countries turn against each other.

You can walk along the streets and see nothing but blood and guts, pieces of what used to be humanity painting walls blood red.

Today.

Here before me these people are waiting for me to talk.

I can feel their eyes boring into my skin. They need reassurance they need a leader.

My mother and father raised me to be that object that the multitudes look for.

I stand before them, but standing is so hard without them beside me.

Last night I buried my parents.

I watched as they were the first two coffins to be lowered to the ground in over fifty years.

The government said it should be so.

They didn't understand why my father's body didn't turn to dust. It was there. So human.

So human while I held it.

I can still feel the tingling sensation in the tips of my fingers at the feel of my mother's cold skin.

I cried last night. I cried until I felt dried out, but I didn't have the strength to get myself up from the gutter.

I stand here, only twenty, like my mother was when she died the first time...more like the second time. My brown curly hair just dances in the wind and I feel them. I feel them surrounding me, like a blanket of protection that warmed me and comforted me.

I ball my firsts up and stare at these frightened faces that look to me for survival.

I wanted to scream that life was not fair, why couldn't I just marry Tate and leave this awful planet that reeks of dead human skin?

I once asked my mother how she dealt with being chosen. She said she didn't — she was forced to in a way.

That didn't help that much. But now thinking about it I wish I could hear her say it; I wish I could get mad at my father for being over-protective and calling me 'nibblet'. But I can't.

All I can see is their bodies lying on the open field. Along with the rest who have died for a cause in this world. Along with mutilated and castrated bodies that ferment with fungus that prey on the dead. There they lay.

Holding each other.

I didn't dare touch them for the longest time.

It was majestic.

Like a Michaelangelo sculpture they lay, made out of material only produced by nature. Their raw skin.

I just stared.

They had always told me that if I lost one of them I would lose them both, but I didn't grasp the reality of it until I saw them.

Like enlightenment that fills you and makes you whole.

I let out a small sob as my knees buckled and I fell to the floor.

I wanted to scream that how dare they leave me! How dare they leave me here alone, in this cold planet were men kill each other for petty power.

How dare they make decisions for me!

Now I am staring at their bodies, and for the first time I notice that they're smiling.

I wanted to wipe the smile form their face. I wanted to see it in pain.

But then I think about those rare moments when we were so happy. On my tenth birthday my dad dressed like the tin man and we all laughed when the players and I had no idea what that was.

Then there was the time when I first learned how to drive and I totally trashed Dad's new convertible, but they were so happy I was alive that it didn't matter.

The time Mom got me hamsters but she let the female and the male together and they had forty babies. Dad said he would eat them and we were all horrified.

And the time I threw my first punch and the time I first saw how my Father and Mother fought — like a dance in motion. The first time I remember them kissing...

They were so in love.

The way they could be silent yet arguing and the times they talked about people that had been dead for 100 years.

The way only he understood her and the way he made her laugh although she was reluctant to admit it.

The way she sat with him through cheap TV or cried when she watched the movies made about them.

The Halloween they won best contest for 'fairy tale costume' of the year. Little did the judges know that they had the real thing.

The way they flowed to motion when trouble was brewing.

The way Mom argued that I shouldn't be let in on the action and the way my Father understood that I needed it.

I sat there, looking at their very dead bodies remembering the good and bad times, the times that made us a family.

I sat and I cried.

I cried for them, I cried for me.

After I was done crying I stood up.

And I became wiser.

People say that I have my mother's strength and my father's charm. Perhaps it's true, but now I can feel this power coursing through my veins.

Power like elixir that gives me life.

So I stand before this army of peasants, beggars, and common people. People with no hope but to save their families. Fighting a war we will probably lose, grieving for loss too large to bear.

We are hungry and outnumbered.

And I remember my Father's words from one of his many bedtime stories. "Don't you get tired of fights you know you're going to win?"

Yes, Daddy, I do.

I know they are watching over me; I can feel their eyes on me and I want to make them proud.

I raise my fist in the air.

"People!"

The all looked at me as though I am a hero, as if I am going to give them the answers.

"You all know me. You all know what I am."

I am a genetic reconstruction of what was left of my parent's love.

"I am not one of you."

Vampire blood curses through my veins, slayer's blood curses through my veins.

"But yet you follow me. You follow me 'cause you know I'll lead."

I am no leader.

"I am asking you today to think of tomorrow."

If there is a tomorrow.

"Your children."

Those that are not dead.

"And the peace we will someday have."

My Father taught me never to lie — because he couldn't lie for shit.

"I do not promise you freedom."

We, as humans, will never have that.

"I do not promise you gold."

All of our money went to the 'cause'.

"I do not promise that you will survive."

My parents didn't.

"The only thing I can promise you."

The only thing I have.

"If that you fight. You fight like heroes. You fight against the tyrant that chokes us and destroys us."

President Kemp.

"Fight like there's no tomorrow and today is your day to die!"

We probably all will.

"But you die fighting for that in which you believe."

I know they did.

"Like my parents."

I saw some looks of pity as tears ran down my cheeks.

"Some will call their story tragic. Some will condemn their memory to books of fancies like a Greek tragedy."

I am crying.

"But I say its rot."

My mother should be turning in her grave for my vocabulary.

"I have seen tragedy."

Too much in my short life.

"I have seen stories that scream for mercy and pity."

My arms are shaking and I have no idea how I am standing.

"Believe me when I say this is not so."

I somehow start to believe my own words.

"Their story is the story of each one of us."

I have stopped crying and I feel I am being lifted.

"People. Just people, living in a world full of horrors and pain."

I have no idea were this energy is coming from.

"Just trying to make the best out of what life gives us."

And here I am practicing the same.

"So I ask you to do the same."

I see some faces that believe and that's fine cause it only takes one.

"Fight!"

I raise my gun.

"Fight today like there's no tomorrow!"

I hear cheers.

"Fight today and win your freedom!"

I turn and we charge.

We are tired, bloody, and hungry.

This is the story of humanity. But what I know is certain. Life will find a way. It has to, like it always has.

So we charge and fight.

I do not know if we'll survive. I do not know if I'll survive.

The only thing that keeps me going is this strength inside of me from which I don't know its origins, from which I don't know it's source.

All I know is that it's welcomed.

And we fight.

We fight like there's no tomorrow.

Humanity will find a way.

Many will die, many will live. The memories of all those warriors before us, like Mom and Dad, that have fought the good fight, that have lived to tell the tale, and have died a hero's death.

For them we fight, for them...and the many more to come.

--

The End

Please let me know if you enjoyed the story, if you enjoyed it in the past or anything like that 


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